A sorta love song
by funnygirl00
Summary: No one, not even Irene Adler can distract Sherlock Holmes from making Tammy, Mrs. Sherlock Holmes. But married life isn't as easy as it seems. After Baskerville, everything should be all sunshine and roses. But then, Moriarty surfaces, Hell bent on destroying everyone connected to Sherlock. Can Tammy and Sherlock make it through this case together, or will one have to die?
1. 1: No trousers

**Ok, this is the second instillation of my Sherlock story, which used to be part of 'I won't send roses', but I broke it down and made it easier for everyone to read. It follows the second season of Sherlock.**

**As always, I own nothing except for Tammy.**

* * *

Chapter One: No trousers

* * *

The weeks that followed were entertaining. John immediately blogged that Sherlock and I were dating. Sherlock hit the roof and shouted at John, which I had to break up. After that, my audience club seemed to grow as the days went on. Sherlock's popularity grew as well, sometimes favorable on his side and other times…not so well. His bluntness was a little too much for some people and it's a wonder he didn't get slapped at times!

I had to console two girls who'd come running out of the room crying because their parents had burned their grandfather! I then explained, as best I could that there were several different ways of preparing a body for death and cremating was one of them. Sherlock reprimanded me for added to their childhood delusions about the world but I'd felt that it was good for children to have some fantasies.

My childhood fantasy was that Neverland existed and I was glad my parents never told me there wasn't a Neverland. Now, a small part of me still wishes that there was Neverland and what a beautiful thought it could be if we all had the ability to fly away from earth and it's troubles to live in a land where one never grew up or old.

Rumpleteazer was a wonderful kitten. Mrs. Hudson kept an eye on her for me when I was at work and it was amusing to see the two of together. Sherlock, well he got her for me so he didn't have to like it. She didn't like him much either; she seemed to feed off of Sherlock's emotions. If Sherlock was in a bad mood, she'd hiss at him, he'd hiss at her and she'd lunge at him with her claws bared and bloody murder in her eyes. But if he was relaxed, she'd climb up on his shoulder and roost there. Sherlock and I tried breaking her of that habit, but she insisted on roosting on Sherlock's shoulder. Mrs. Hudson was the only one who seemed to have any control over her.

Then one day, things took a complete turn for Sherlock and me. I was getting ready to leave for an afternoon show I'd put on. I'd spent good money on duplicating Vera Allen's yellow dress from the 'Abraham' number in 'White Christmas'. The only difference was that my dress was pale pink instead of yellow. I was trotting down the stairs, wearing a full length white coat when I noticed two men, in black suits, walking Sherlock through the front door.

"Sherlock?" I called. "What's going on?"

One of the men nodded in my direction and then approached me. "You come with us."

"What?" I stepped back and he reached out and grabbed my wrist in a tight grip. "Hey! Let me go!" I hit the man over the head with my bag. "Sherlock!"

"Let her go!" Sherlock snapped darkly at the man. "Or you'll rue the day you laid a finger on her!" The man released me and I wiped his touch off me. "Do keep up Tammy; we're being hauled off on business!"

I glared at Sherlock and then stumbled after him and the mysterious men. "You could have said that to me first and I wouldn't have hit him."

Sherlock chuckles. "I wouldn't bet on it."

It was then that I noticed one of the men was holding a pile of Sherlock's clothes. I stared at the pile, then at Sherlock's swathed figure before shouting. "Sherlock!"

"What?" He asked. "Is something wrong?"

"No! I mean yes! Are you wearing any clothes at all?"

He doesn't even blink. "No."

"Oh for God's sake! Why?"

One of the men answered the question for Sherlock. "He refused to put them on. We tried miss, but he insisted."

"That I believe, but for Pete's sake WHY!?"

"They refused to answer my questions."

"Oh," I groaned. "for once will you stop acting like a child!?"

"We are not deaf Tammy," he stated calmly. "you're simply overreacting to being seated next to a naked man." My face flushed beet red. "Not to mention, since you and I are seeing each other, my physical presence is causing your hormones to spin a little out of whack. I suggest you look out the window."

"I hate you." I groaned as I turned to watch all the building's flying by. Sherlock laughed at me and I tuned him out. I began wondering where we were going and what Sherlock had done that I'd gotten dragged along with him. And whoever this was, I hope they didn't mind meeting Sherlock in a bed sheet!

* * *

_Inside Buckingham Palace,_

* * *

"Will you please," I begged through my teeth. "put your clothes on?"

"Not yet."

I groaned and buried my face in the palm of my hands. "Why...of all the men, in the whole of London, did I have to run into you?" Hearing Sherlock's sheet rustle I hissed. "And _don't you even dare _think of touching me!"

He laughed. "Fine."

The sound of feet approaching caused me to look up. To my surprise, it was John. "Hello John."

"Hi." John sat down beside me and listen to me tap my feet impatiently. John looked like a confused chipmunk as he studied Sherlock. Sherlock maintained a neutral look. "Are you wearing trousers?"

"No." he stated quickly.

"Ok." John said accepting it easily.

"He's not wearing _anything_!" I bite out. "He is completely…_naked _under there."

My words only caused both of them to laugh maniacally, further irritating me. I groaned and clunked my heels on the floor. John patted his knees and looked around while Sherlock continued chuckling. "Buckingham Palace." John commented in wonder. "I am seriously fighting the impulse to steal an ashtray." Both men continued chuckling. "What are _we_ doing here, Sherlock?" John asked as he continued looking around him. "Seriously, what?"

"I don't know." He smirked.

"Oh stop lying Sherlock." I said. "You know everything and I want to know what we are doing here!"

"Are we here to see the queen?" John asked.

"Apparently, yes."

Both men started laughing again. I groaned. "You're both hopeless!"

"Just once, can you two behave like grownups?" I groaned when I realized that it was Mycroft talking to us.

John chuckled quietly. "We solve crimes, I blog about it, and he forgets his pants. I wouldn't hold out too much hope."

"And I put up with both of them," I said. "therefore my mental state must be questioned."

"Either way, these things must be dealt with accordingly." He glanced at me. "Hello Tammy."

"Hello Mycroft."

"I was in the middle of a case, Mycroft." Sherlock states in irritation. "And do stop talking to Tammy; she's really not interested in you."

"To my knowledge, London is in a free country." I look upwards at the ceiling, struggling to find some patience. "Therefore, Mycroft can talk to me."

"The hiker and the backfire?" Mycroft asked. "I glanced at the police report. A bit obvious, surely."

"Transparent," Sherlock said. "as are your continuous glances at Tammy."

"Ignore him Mycroft; he's acting like a child." I stood up and removed my white coat completely. All eyes went towards me and my skirt that's thigh high. "Now, shall we get back to business?"

Sherlock glowered at my legs, which were completely exposed thanks to rather short skirt. "Put your coat on."

"No. Not until you put your clothes on."

"Time to get on then." Mycroft picked up the stack of Sherlock's clothes and extended them to him. Sherlock shot him a look that said, 'please, don't be an idiot and tell me what to do again'. But Mycroft didn't take the hint. "We're in Buckingham Palace, at the very heart of the British nation."

"Obviously." I muttered.

"Sherlock Holmes," Mycroft said testily. "_put your trousers on_."

"What for?" I rolled my eyes at Sherlock's rare display of his stupidity.

"Your client."

Sherlock stands up, refusing to allow Mycroft to have any more extra inches over him. "And my client is?"

"Illustrious," all our heads whipped towards another door to see another man, who could double as Mycroft, but then, that was my opinion. "in the extreme. And remaining, I'll have to inform you, entirely anonymous."

"Harry." Mycroft said shaking Harry's hand. "May I apologize for the state of my little brother?"

"A full time occupation, I imagine." Sherlock and I glowered at Harry as he turns towards John. "And this must be Mr. John Watson, formerly of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers."

"Hello, yes." They shake hands and I rolled my eyes.

"My employer is a tremendous fan of your blog."

"Your employer?"

"She particularly enjoyed the one about the aluminum crutch," he stated. John shot Sherlock a pointed look that clearly said, 'See! I have talent! People read my blog and like it.' The man walked up to me, surveying me from top to bottom. "And you, I'm afraid I'm not familiar with you."

"Tammy Taylor."

He smiled a little bit too friendly with his smile. "An enchanting, beautiful girl. And you are-"

I straightened. "I'm Sherlock's girlfriend."

"Girlfriend?" He turns to Mycroft. "You never mentioned that."

"They don't like to mention their relationship. I was…respecting their wishes. Besides, you never know how long these things last."

"I see." I ignore Harry's hand that he's extended to me and I sit back down. He went to Sherlock. "And Mr. Holmes the younger, you look taller in your photographs."

I groaned and rolled my eyes. This man just blew whatever chances he had for Sherlock taking the case. He complimented John's blog, gave me the eye and then insulted Sherlock's height. I reach over and pick up Sherlock's clothes, preparing to leave.

"I take the precaution of a good coat and a short friend." I could tell by his tone that his patience had run out and he wasn't sticking around anymore. "Mycroft, I don't do anonymous clients. I'm used to mystery at one end of my cases." I stood up, preparing to follow him out. "Both ends is too much work. Good morning."

At that moment, Mycroft stepped on Sherlock's sheet, catching it and giving me a view of Sherlock's rear end, which I didn't want to see. I blushed red and looked down on the floor, covering my eyes out of habit.

"This is a matter of national importance," Mycroft hissed. "grow up!"

"Get off my sheet!" Sherlock somehow managed to snap, bark and hiss in the same breath. I could hear his anger.

"Or what?"

"Or I'll just walk away." He states calmly.

"Don't you dare!" I cried out.

"I'll let you." Mycroft sneered.

"Oh will the two of you grow up!?" I shouted.

"Boys, please," John asked patiently. "not here. You're making Tammy uncomfortable as well."

"Who….is…my…..c_lient_?!" Sherlock demanded.

"Take a look at where you're standing and make a deduction. You are to be engaged by the highest in the land. Now for God's sake," Mycroft caught himself from shouting and he took a second to right his emotions. "_Put your clothes on_."

I realize that Sherlock isn't going to do so until he calms down. So, steeling my nerve, I step up to Sherlock and placed a hand on his shoulder. Sherlock jumped and spun around, tension still in his shoulders. I noticed that even in the muscles in his throat were taut. He frowns at me, knowing that I'm very uncomfortable, but I'm putting my emotions aside for him for the moment.

"Inhale…and then exhale Sherlock." He does as I suggest with a dark glower on his face. I handed him his clothes with a smile. He looked somewhat pouty so I stretched up and kissed him on the corner of his mouth. "Now, get dressed, please?"

Sherlock took the clothes and nodded. He walked away, muttering to himself. Mycroft nodded. "Thank you Tammy, you should get roses for that."

"Ha, like Sherlock would buy me roses. But…a girl can dream can't she? But honestly, you all are rather stupid. You were just asking for him to blow you off. If you want Sherlock to work with you, first, don't suggest that sherlock is the problem child and Mycroft has to go around cleaning up his messes. Second, do not praise John's writing, no matter how brilliant it is in front of Sherlock. Thirdly, don't make a pass at his girlfriend. And above all else, do not insult his height or else he will make sure that your dig your way out of the mess you made on your own. Not to mention, he will sit back in his chair with a bag of popcorn and laugh at you all."

"Sherlock doesn't eat popcorn." Mycroft points out. "He hates it."

I smirk. "That's what you think!"


	2. 2: Sex over tea

Chapter two:Sex over tea

* * *

To say that tea was awkward was putting it mildly; it was the definition of awkward and every other word that meant awkward. Mycroft somehow knew that I preferred cold tea and I was presented with a bottle of cold raspberry tea. Sherlock glowered at Mycroft darkly as Mycroft poured the tea. "I'll be mother." He teases.

"And there," Sherlock says pointedly. "is a whole childhood in a nutshell."

Mycroft glowers at him, then puts the teapot down as harry speaks. "My employer has a problem."

"A matter has come to light of an extremely delicate and potentially criminal nature, and in this hour of need, dear brother, your name has arisen."

"Why?" He demands as patiently as he can. "You have a police force of sorts, even a marginally Secret Service. Why come to me?"

"People do come to you for help," Harry inquires. "don't they, Mr. Holmes?"

"Not, to date, anyone with a Navy."

I place my hand on his knee. "Play nice."

Sherlock glances down at my hand as Mycroft talks. "This is a matter of the highest security and therefore of trust."

John's brow furrows. "You don't trust your own Secret Service?"

"Naturally not." Mycroft scoffed. "They all spy on people for money."

"I do believe we have a timetable." Harry pointed out to Mycroft.

"Yes, of course." He snapped open his briefcase and handed Sherlock some large photos. "What do you know about this woman?"

I glanced at the large photograph of the woman. I suppose she could be considered attractive, if she let her hair down. "Nothing whatsoever." Sherlock stated.

"Then you should be more paying attention." Mycroft stated. "She's been at the center of two political scandals in the last year. And recently ended the marriage of a prominent novelist for having an affair with both participants separately."

"Oh for God's sake!" The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them. All eyes went to me and I took a drink from my bottle. I wouldn't apologize! What else was a woman to do when she heard such a thing about her own gender! "I-I didn't mean to say that out loud."

"Try not to sound so shocked Tammy." Sherlock stated. "Who is she?"

"Irene Adler. Professionally known as, The Woman."

"Professionally?" John questioned.

"There are many names for what she does, she prefers Dominatrix."

"Dominatrix?" Sherlock questioned.

"Don't be alarmed." Mycroft said smugly. "It's to do with sex."

Oh, I couldn't believe I was hearing these things being spoken of so slightly! Call me old fashioned, but hey, there were some things that one doesn't talk about it public! Much less Buckingham palace!

"Sex doesn't alarm me." Sherlock commented quickly

"How would you know?" Mycroft smirked.

"Ask Tammy."

I choked on my tea and glowered at him. He glowered back at me. After several long moments I stated. "I don't…comment on my personal life in public."

"Not a good liar." Mycroft chuckled. "She provides recreational scolding, for those who enjoy that sort of thing, and are prepared to pay for it." He handed Sherlock some more photos. "These are all from her website."

Being seated beside Sherlock allowed me a glimpse of photos I really didn't want to see. The photo's, though acceptable to so many people now, to my innocent eyes, the pictures I saw of her were embarrassing and shocking for me. I had a program called, 'Curse Free T.V' that took out every single four letter word. I still, haven't watched an 'R' rated movie!

I rested my hands on my legs, to realize that they were on display. I stood up and put my coat on, buttoning it all the way up to the top. While I had been planning it for a dance routine at the club, it really wasn't proper for Buckingham palace either! Besides, it made me feel like a tramp and I was decently covered. In fact, the skirt of my dress came from the 1950's!

"I see we've shocked Miss Tammy." Harry said with a pointed look at me.

I shook my head. "Not shocked…disgusted." I rubbed my arms. "It makes me…sick."

"Tammy is very American and old fashioned." Mycroft said. "She's a prime example of a lady."

"Thank you for that compliment." I said as Sherlock glowers at me.

"Indeed." John said. "She's one of the nicest girls around. She should be made a Saint for her ability to put up with Sherlock."

"And I assume this Adler woman has some compromising photographs?" Sherlock interrupted.

"You're very quick, Mr. Holmes." Harry observed, again, irritating Sherlock.

"Hardly a difficult deduction." Sherlock muttered. "Photographs of whom?"

There was a long silence where no one spoke. "A person of significance to my employer. We'd prefer not to say any more at this time."

"You... can't tell us anything?" John asked.

Mycroft exhaled. "I can tell you it's a young person. A young, female person."

At that point, the wheels in Sherlock's head began turning. "How many photographs?"

"A considerable number, apparently."

"Do Miss Adler and this young, female person appear in these photographs together?"

"Yes they do."

"And I assume in a number of compromising scenarios."

"An imaginative range, we are assured."

Sherlock paused. "John, you might want to put that cup back in your saucer now." A quick glance at John showed he was slightly stunned by the rapid-fire exchange between Sherlock and Mycroft.

"Can you help us, Mr. Holmes?"

"How?"

"Will you take the case?"

"What case? Pay her. Now. And in full. As Miss Adler remarks in her masthead, "know when you are beaten." He turned and reached for his coat.

"She doesn't want anything." Sherlock stopped at his Mycroft's words. "She got in touch, she informed us that the photographs existed, she indicated that she had no intention to use them to extort either money or favor."

"Oh, a power play." Sherlock breathed, the sudden interest in his voice catching me off guard. "A power play with the most powerful family in Britain, _now that is_ a dominatrix." I heard admiration in his tone and I felt a small stab of jealousy in my stomach. "Oh, this is getting rather fun, isn't it!"

"Sherlock." John said quietly, obviously observing the distress in my eyes.

"Where is she?" Sherlock asked as he jumped up from his seat. I stood up and followed his example.

"London, currently," Mycroft stated. "She's staying"

"Text me the details," Sherlock said. "I'll be in touch by the end of the day."

A man in a suit entered carrying a bouquet of roses. Hybrid roses, white with deep magenta. "Ahh," Mycroft said brazenly. "just in time."

Sherlock frowned as the man stepped forward and presented me with the roses. My jaw dropped in amazement. "What…are these-"

"I'm not as dense as Sherlock believes me to be." He stated kindly. "It was a very uncomfortable hour for you and I feel that you deserve something to soothe your mind."

I stared at Mycroft in amazement. I could feel Sherlock bristle in anger beside me. I took them and smiled. "Thank you Mycroft," I gave him an awkward hug with one arm. "they're beautiful and it was very considerate of you."

"Just a present for having to put up with my brother." He shot Sherlock a glare. "By right, he should buy you something for putting you through that ordeal. If you don't know yet Sherlock, roses are her favorite flower."

"I know that." Sherlock grabbed my arm and turned me towards the exit. "Right, let's go." By the tone in his voice I knew he was going to explode the moment we were in the taxi. Now ordinarily, I wouldn't have accepted these roses, but I was a little upset and not thinking clearly.


	3. 3: Shouting in public

Chapter Three: Shouting in public

* * *

"What's with the roses Tammy?" Sherlock demanded. "You actually _took _them!"

"I'm just enjoying them for the ride back to Baker Street." I said, injecting a warning tone into my voice. "Nothing to get all steamed about."

"Nothing to get steamed about?" He snapped at me. "You just accepted roses from my brother and then you gave him a hug in my presence while wearing _my _ring! And I _am not _steamed up."

"Sherlock," I bit out. "calm down! I'm giving them to Mrs. Hudson when I return!"

He didn't even make an attempt to calm down after I made that statement. "Why?" he demanded. "You were keen on keeping those moments ago!"

"1: I'm not dating Mycroft nor am I interested in him! So, it wouldn't be proper for me to keep them. 2: we were just in Buckingham palace and _you _created enough of a scene in there and I wasn't going to add to them!" My voice rose and I grew more and more animated. "3: these just happen to be a favorite rose of mine, but I prefer red more. 4: Mrs. Hudson was talking about getting some flowers for her kitchen, now she won't have to buy some! 5: who needs roses that didn't come from you?! And 6: since I'm not going to get _anything _from you is it wrong of me to enjoy something nice for just five minutes without you ruining it!" I snapped at him. His eyebrows rose in surprise and I turned and looked out the window. After fifteen seconds of stifling silence I barked. "Cabbie, would you stop please?"

"Tammy." Sherlock warned me.

"Let her go Sherlock." John said. "She needs some space."

"What for?"

I jumped out once the cab stopped and Sherlock went towards me. I slammed the door in his face and I actually heard it clunk his forehead. "Drive on!" I order.

The cabbie did as I asked. I turned and walked down the street to find another taxi. The squealing of wheels caused to me to spin around to see Sherlock was rolling on the walkway right behind me! I groaned and tried to flag down another taxi. I spied one and I began trotting towards them when I felt a hand on my arm.

"Now Tammy, what was that about?"

"What _was that _about?" I said sarcastically. "Well you listen to me Mr. Sherlock, Mind Reader, Holmes! Since you've got the highest intellect in the world, what is wrong with _you_?"

"_Me_?!" I laughed tightly as he looks at me in total shock. "There is nothing wrong with me! It's you!"

"_Me_!?" he couldn't have looked more surprised if I'd pulled out a gun and shot him.

"You don't trust me Sherlock!" I snapped at him. "I've told you and I've told Mycroft that I'm not interested in any man but _you_! I've state it again and again, but you don't listen to me! I really should get my head examined!"

"You're shouting." He said calmly.

"Why do you care?" I shouted. "_You_ can show up at Buckingham Palace naked and _I_ can't shout at you in the street?!" He scowled at me. "I just wish for once…that you could take my feelings into consideration!"

"I've told you Tammy that I'm-

"Not used to relationships. I know that!" I finish for him. "Guess what? Sherlock, you are a wonderful man, intelligent and funny. But you are also so rude, and cruel."

His eyes flashed. "I'm cruel?"

"Yes! And not just to me, to everybody. You're not going to change, I'm aware of that but I do think that once in a while that you should be made aware of it." I was on a roll now and there was no stopping me. "Many times now, you've shouted out to people that you and I are intimate in a sexual way, which is a lie, embarrassingly improper and it humiliates me! You don't defend me when it would definitely be appreciated. I've defended you numerous times against Donavan, your family and others! You're so wrapped up in yourself that you fail to notice some things that go on in front of you! John is a dear friend, but even he knew when I was feeling a little hurt in Buckingham Palace! And I daresay that Mycroft knew that that whole conversation would leave me ill at ease so that's why he bought the roses to make up for a very uncomfortable afternoon. And now, that I've got everything out feel free to delete this conversation from your mind!" I inhaled for breath. It felt good to have gotten everything out, even though he wouldn't remember a word I said to him later on. "Now, I'll meet you back at Baker Street after I finish my show and some shopping for Mrs. Hudson and I'd like some privacy so please, leave me alone!"

With that Sherlock nodded. "Alright." He flagged down a cab and actually opened the door for me. "Here's your ride."

I frowned and rolled my eyes. "And just because you got the door for me once, doesn't give you any brownie points."

"No, but this might." He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. "See you later." He frowns, leans forward, takes hold of the scarf around my throat and pulls me towards him, enveloping me in a kiss! My eyes bulge in surprise as he pulls away, grinning. "Your kisses are great when your mad."

He closed the door on whatever words I was going to say to him. I groaned and rubbed my eyes. He was such a confusing man! Was I ever going to understand him? Was I even meant to understand him? God only knows!

* * *

_Later that day,_

* * *

"Mrs. Hudson?" I called.

"Oh Tammy," she said as she came around the corner, wiping her hands on the dishes. "I can't believe it. So many deliveries." She stared at me. "More flowers?"

I frowned. "No, Mrs. Hudson, these are for you." I handed her them and the bag of groceries that she wanted. "I got your groceries as well."

"Oh, thank you dear." She smiled as she took them and inhaled the fragrant bloom. "These are beautiful. Did your show go well?"

I nodded. "Yes, the dancing actually went well, but my feet are killing me."

"I can understand that dear, and you're dancing in high heels." She gave me a shooing motion. "You better go upstairs. Someone sent you a room full of flowers."

I stared at her. "What?"

"Yes. There are flowers in every inch of your room. I kept Rumpleteazer down here with me; she wanted to eat the roses."

"You're kidding!" I held my groceries tightly as I ran upstairs. "Who sent me flowers?"

"I don't know dear!" Mrs. Hudson said as she came up behind me.

I opened my door and stopped short. "Oh…good…Lord."

Mrs. Hudson hadn't been kidding. My room was like a garden. Every space that could hold a vase of roses held them and they all had little notes attached to them. There were dozens of roses of various colors in every corner of my room. White, red, pink, purple, yellow, blue and even rainbow roses! A path of sprinkled rose petals led to my room and I opened the door. I gasped as I took in the sight of my room bathed in red roses, sparkling crystals and glowing candles. I stared in shock, completely at a loss for words.

I turned my phone on with numb fingers, preparing to send a text to Sherlock about these roses when I saw that there was a text waiting from him all ready. _I left something in your room for you._

I dropped the phone in shock. "Mrs. Hudson!" I called, deducing the roses and Sherlock's text in one take.

"Yes dear?" She said directly behind me, I jumped and stepped aside so she could peer inside the room. "Oh my word!" She gasped. "Oh Tammy, it's beautiful! Who sent these to you?"

I shook my head in amazement. "Sherlock." I held out my phone to her, letting her read his text. "I-I can't believe this."

The door downstairs opened and John called. "Mrs. Hudson, I need some help!"

I frowned and we scurried downstairs to find John and Lestrade struggling to hold Sherlock up on his feet! "Oh my gosh!" I said. "What happened?"

He bit his lip. "Ahhmm, Irene Adler drugged him." Sherlock babbled some ridiculous, drunken sounding nonsense. "He hasn't really been making a lot of sense on the taxi ride and, I believe Lestrade filmed Sherlock on his phone."

"I wasn't going to miss an opportunity like this!" Lestrade said with a laugh. "This was priceless!"


	4. 4: Notes from Adler

Chapter four: Notes from Adler

* * *

I opened the door to their flat and moved to get the door to Sherlock's bedroom. "John, I want full details about what happened today." He flinched when I said full and I immediately picked on it. "What happened?"

"Uhm, nothing."

"You're a terrible liar John Watson. Where is Sherlock's coat? How'd he loose it? The idiot never goes anywhere without it." Sherlock let out a drunken comment as I pulled the covers back on the bed. John and Lestrade lowered him onto the bed. Sherlock slurred something to me and I smiled. "Now, you need to sleep it off."

"He can't really understand you."

"I can make him understand me." I said as I drew the covers up to Sherlock's chin. He struggled and I knelt on the bedside and began gently massaging his temples. Both men watched me as Sherlock slowly stopped struggling. "Now, go to sleep." I whisper gently. "You'll feel better."

His hand crept up around my neck and he pulled me towards him. I smiled, even in his drunken state he observed that I was within kissing distance. He kissed me and I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. Then, his arms dropped from my shoulders revealing that he was sound asleep.

"Idiot." I stood up gingerly from the bed and shook my head. "There, and now, we leave." I said quietly as I walked towards the door.

"I'd never have believed it." Lestrade said in wonder. "He just kissed you."

"He's drugged and don't you dare go telling anyone what you did or I shall denounce you as a liar. Now, Greg, if you don't mind, could you please not show that around Headquarters?" I asked politely. "Sherlock is...more than a friend to me now and I'd hate to see you taking advantage of him in this state."

Lestrade exhaled, yielding to me. "Fine. I won't, but for your sake, not for him."

"Thank you. I appreciate that."

Lestrade walked out of the flat and I turned to John. "Well, what happened in Adler's house? I want to know from the beginning."

"We were separated actually. Sherlock had me punch him in the face."

"You hit him?"

John smirked. "Yeah."

I laughed. "Finally! But don't tell him I said that! Back to the story."

"I went to get a first aid kit from the maid and when I came back they were….talking."

"About?" I pressed John.

He blinked. "I'm not really sure."

My womanly intuition made me ask the following question. "What was she wearing?" Her costume must have been distracting if John didn't remember. John looked as if he was going to choke on his Adam's apple and I knew I'd struck a chord. "John? What was she wearing? You don't have a good poker face! I know she was wearing something provocative so you might as well tell me now!"

"She wasn't wearing something provocative." He paused and I waited for him. "She wasn't wearing…anything."

I blinked. "I beg your pardon John, could you repeat that again please?"

"She wasn't wearing….anything." he repeated.

"She was…in her underwear?" I said, on borderline shrieking.

"Not even that."

"Oh for God's sake!" I shouted. "She was naked?!" John nodded and I jumped out of my chair. "What a….slut!" John looked surprised at my outburst. "Two unknown male visitors and she walks out in…nothing! What a slut!"

"Tammy, calm down."

"Oh I will!" Then I remembered Sherlock was there. "What was Sherlock doing? He better have had his eyes averted!" Again, John's face betrayed him. "HE DIDN'T?! WHY?!"

"Well Tammy, it was good because these gunmen broke in-

"And they shot her?"

"No."

"Why can't a bullet go off accidentally when needed!?"

"They needed Sherlock to open the code to her safe and it turned out to be her….body measurements."

I blinked in stunned silence before going into my initial reaction. "I'm going to kill him after I throw all those roses out!"

"Roses?" John frowned. "What roses?"

"Follow me!" I stomped up the stairs. "I'm throwing all of these flowers out the window!"

"Wow, Tammy." John said as he took in the flowers in my room. "These are-

"Going to be flying out the window in 30 seconds."

"Now, wait a minute." He said. "Sherlock said he left some little trinket in your room."

"If you're thinking these aren't from him, you'd be wrong."

"Tammy," he said as he grabbed the white roses from my hands. "stop a moment, breathe and read the cards first."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because maybe they're not from him." He said. "Think for a minute. Sherlock wouldn't buy you one rose, so why would he buy you dozens and write notes for all of them?"

In spite of my anger, John's words made sense to me. I grabbed the card, opened it and began reading it in a snappish voice. "White roses for your innocence and purity which personally, I shall enjoy exploiting." I stopped and looked at the card. 'What the," then I noticed the initials. I.A. "heck…is Adler doing, sending me roses?"

John's brows rose in confusion. "I-I don't know."

I went to the window and threw the roses out. "Now, keep the cards from Adler to show to Sherlock and throw every single rose petal out the window!"

"And they say Hell has no fury like a woman scorned." John mumbled as he went to collect the roses. "A woman jealous is more lethal."

"I AM NOT jealous John Watson!" I snapped. "I am just ANGRY!"

Each card had a similar message and insult attached to it. _orange roses, a passionate flower. I wonder, would your passion bloom if I opened up your rose bud? Lavender roses can simply be enchanting towards the imaginative mind. Can you possibly be imagining the wonderful things I could do to you? Yellow roses, joy and happiness. Believe me, I could slip you into a state of happiness like Sherlock, but make it much more memorable._

After reading several more sickening notes, I concentrated on throwing the roses out the window. People were staring up at me as if I were insane as I threw the roses out. Still, it was interesting to watch children and couples grabbing the roses. Then John and I entered the bedroom.

"Wow." John said. "This is…amazing."

I nodded. "It's almost a shame to throw it away." I scanned to room. "All right, where would Sherlock put a trinket of mine?"

"On your pillow?" John said. "Or...on the nightstand? There's two letters."

I reached for the one on my pillow first. It had to be Adler. Sherlock was much more practical. I opened up Adler's letter and scanned it.

_Did you enjoy my small consolation prize? _The note read. _Ironic that Sherlock would create such a romantic look for your bedroom since he won't be around to share it with you tonight and I'm afraid that I'm to blame for it. Sherlock can't seem to get you into his bed inspite of all his charms. You're too cold for your own good, he needs a __real __woman like me. Though I must admit that I admire you for your resistance to his charms, not many women could resist a man when he makes such requests. You and Mycroft really would make a better pair, since he gets you roses and Sherlock doesn't. Still, I wonder if you'd be as submissive to me after I had you. I'd so love to see you struggle against the bonds I'd tie you with as I ran my hands over your_

I stopped reading and handed the note to John as I covered my mouth in disgust. "Throw it away."

How dare that…creature write a note of that to me? Why was she doing this? I had a boyfriend and that alone shrieked that I was straight! Maybe, she figured on seducing me to get through to Sherlock. Well, good luck with that!

John exhaled. "That is….very…inappropriate."

I took Sherlock's note and opened it. _A rose for every debt I owe you. Sherlock. _I smiled and folded the note. "These can stay John." I stated. "These actually …came from Sherlock."

I didn't have to look at John to know that he was surprised. "He actually bought you roses?"

"Probably used Mycroft's credit card or something." I said as I inhaled the roses. "He actually remembered that I said that red were my favorite." I tilt my head to the side. "He's probably upset that he's all drugged up and unable to see my reaction."

"I still don't know why you put up with him Tammy."

"As I told Mycroft, I just plain love the guy and at times like these," I take a rose and inhale it deeply as I sink onto the bed. "I wish I didn't."


	5. 5: Text messages

Chapter Five: Text Messages

* * *

"John?" Sherlock shouted in the morning, his flailing arm whacking me in the face.

"Ow!"

"Tammy? What are you doing here?" He sat up and his eyes narrowed as he took in the sight of me on his bed. "And in my bed too."

"I was making sure you were ok." I yawned. "I sat here for a while and I must have fallen asleep."

Sherlock had a rough night. He woke up once, fell out of bed and stumbled around demanding to know where 'the woman,' AKA Irene Adler was. It was amusing to see Sherlock attempt looking under the bed for her, but when I watched John put him to bed from the doorway. He didn't really have much to say to me, he could barely form a coherent thought. I checked on him a few times during the night and he was so fitful that I crawled onto the opposite side of the bed and shared it with him. Remarkably enough, he fell asleep as soon he sensed that I was there. I'd slept with my clothes on though, so I didn't look my best this morning.

Sherlock studied me, his eyes dark. "I thought that there was someone with me last night but I wasn't sure." I smiled and he leaned forward slowly. "You were concerned."

"Maybe…a little." My breath halted in my chest as I awaited a kiss that would send the room in spin.

"Did you call?" John entered and Sherlock groaned in annoyance as he pulled away from me and got up from the bed. Poor John was caught off guard. "I, uhm, walked in on something didn't I?"

Sherlock went to his clothes drawer and pulled out a white shirt. "That's your specialty John."

"I fell asleep in here John, by accident."

"I was outside." John commented.

"You must be a hard sleeper." Sherlock commented as he pulled his shirt off and threw on the other shirt. I blushed, but couldn't quite make myself look away yet. Sherlock was more muscular than he actually appeared. As if sensing my gaze, he looked at me and grinned. "Like what you see Tammy?"

I blushed more. "Possibly."

John cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I _am _still here you two."

"Sorry John."

"Get out of here John." Sherlock said as he approached me, shoving his arms into his sleeves.

"Please." I added.

"Fine. Please." Sherlock makes no signs to button up his shirt as he stands at the edge of the bed. "Go. Now."

"Oh, all right, but what did you need Sherlock?"

"Hmm? Oh yes," Sherlock frowned. "I wanted to ask you something, but Tammy will suffice. So, you can leave now."

John frowned but nodded. "Sure. If you need help Sherlock, just yell."

Sherlock shot him an indignant look. "Why would I need help from you?"

"Just…forget I said anything." John said. "Never mind."

"He won't." I teased as Sherlock pulled on his red, silk robe; his eyes all ready deducing my body language. "At least I don't think he will."

"I won't be." Sherlock said. "Can't guarantee Tammy's reaction though." John shook his head and muttered something as he closed the door. Sherlock studied me as I turned and lay on my side. He got down on the bed and snuggled close to me. "I gather that you were pleased with your bedroom last night?"

I ran my finger behind his ear and down to his neck. "Very."

"Good."

"There was one thing missing from the whole set up though Sherlock." He frowned. "You forgot something."

"What?" I laughed as I watched him attempt to remember what it was. "What did I forget?"

"Relax." I whispered. "You simply forgot to show up." He blinked in surprise. "The only thing missing was you Sherlock."

Sherlock's brows rose. "Are you saying that I had I showed up last night you wouldn't have turned me away?"

"Oh I don't know." I was feeling very saucy this morning and I had missed these word exchanges between us. "How would you like to take it?" Sherlock kissed me and I smiled against the kiss he bestowed on me. I ran my fingers through his hair, coaxing a growl out of him. I laughed lightly against his lips, but that was cut short when I found myself on my back with him directly on top of me. "Sherlock."

"Tammy." He said as he continued kissing me. "try to shut up and relax." _How can I relax when my heart is pounding in my head! _My mind screamed at me. Sherlock's long fingers moved slowly up my side towards my breasts. When his curious fingers touched me I jumped. Sherlock smirked and murmured against my mouth. "Mhmmm, still sensitive there?"

"Sherlock." Then, Sherlock pinned me on my back, his hands holding onto my wrists and the blood bled out of my face when I realized that he is now between my legs. Sherlock kisses me forcefully and I whimper against his lips. He thrusts against me, my back arches off the bed and I let out a cry as heat floods my body. "Sherlock!"

My cry causes him to stop kissing me. he pulls away, breathing heavily as he looks down at me. my stomach is knots, twisting madly as we slowly regain control over ourselves. It was then that John banged on the door and thankfully, he doesn't enter the room. "Sherlock? Tammy? Mycroft is here."

"Tell him to burn in hell." Sherlock muttered.

"Tell him," I said loudly in a wavering voice. "that…we'll be out directly."

"Are you ok Tammy?" John asked.

"She is fine!" Sherlock said loudly. "Can't guarantee about what would have happened in five minutes." I burned red as he looked down at me, studying me. "Your pulse is beating rapidly. Pupils are extremely dilated and you're sweating lightly." He glances down. "I daresay you're a little…warm down there."

"Stop that, I am not an experiment." I cough as I pulled away from Sherlock as I began to smooth my hair and straighten my shirt with shaking fingers. "Perfect timing Mycroft and John."

I'd deduced a long time ago that Mr. Right would be hard to say "No," to and right now, Sherlock was getting harder to say "No" to. But I'd promised my father and I was going to keep that promise.

"You're right Tammy." He stated as if ready my thoughts. "It is getting harder for you to say no." Next thing I knew, I was back on the bed, with him staring down at me. "These games, are getting a little too dangerous." His hand slowly slid down my throat. The look in his eyes and his touch caused me to tremble and gasp. His eyes clouded over and I exhaled deeply. "I'm sorry."

I smiled and ran my hand over his cheek. "It's fine. I shouldn't have teased you."

"You weren't teasing me." he kissed my forehead. "It gets so hard….not to make love to you." The blood drains out of my face at his honest words. "Quitting smoking would be much easier. I want you so much. It's strange because...I've never wanted anyone before."

I'm honestly touched by his honesty, so I inhale and confess. "I want you too Sherlock. But…not like this." I gently push him off me. "Now, can we go, before we do something that we'll regret?"

"Right." I moved towards the door and Sherlock said. "Wait." I stopped and waited as he buttoned up his shirt. Once that task is accomplished, he wraps his arm around my waist and opens the door for me. "Shall we?"

I laughed and leaned into his embrace. "You're such an idiot."

"You call me that a little too often Tammy."

"Someone should."

"Why?"

"Because you call everyone an idiot constantly. I pay you back every once in a while." I whispered. "I still want to know what happened with Irene Adler."

"Absolutely nothing."

"And her walking out naked as a jaybird was absolutely nothing at all? I deduced that the reason your coat was is missing is because she has it." Sherlock stopped dead in his tracks and I continued on my way. "I have a vague idea what happened Sherlock Holmes, and I want the full details."

"Can't you shut up for once John?" Sherlock snapped.

John blinked in surprise. "What did I do?"

"You told me the truth. And I thank you John," I leaned over and kissed his cheek, causing all the men to look at me in wonder. "I don't know what either of us would do without you. Now, about this Adler woman Sherlock. She must have made quite the impression if you refer to her as 'The Woman,' and don't worry I'm not as mad as I was yesterday. Yesterday, I wanted to kill you." I headed to the kitchen to find Mrs. Hudson there. "Good morning Mrs. Hudson."

"Good morning dear." I hugged her and she patted my back. "Now, you enjoy breakfast for once. I insist you sit down."

"Just this once." I went and sat down opposite of John and next to Sherlock, who was still glowering. "Oh and Sherlock," I reached into my pocket and handed him the bag of notes and cards that I'd received from Adler. "see if you can figure out why she sent me all these?"

Sherlock took the notes and began reading them; his eyes grew irritated. He read the letters and then the notes. "How did you get these?"

I laughed. "With a bouquet of roses to go with each note." I leaned forward on my elbows. "tell me, do you agree with her deductions?"

Sherlock stopped reading the newspaper and frowned at me. "Don't be ridiculous, you're the total opposite of her and she envies you. Not to mention, you've got me, and that's the one thing that she isn't going to get."

I felt a little better, but not completely reassured. Still a wave of pleasure washed over me when Sherlock said that I had him. I hadn't even thought of him being 'mine' as he'd implied it. "Nice speech Sherlock," Mycroft said. "but where are the photographs?"

"The photographs are perfectly safe." Sherlock stated as he picked up his newspaper and began reading it to avoid looking at Mycroft.

"In the hands of a fugitive sex worker." Mycroft stated.

"She's not interested in blackmail she wants...protection for some reason." I fought to keep back a laugh as the double meaning flashes in my mind. Sherlock shot a glare at Mycroft. "I take it you stood down the police investigation of the shooting at her house?"

"How can we do anything when she has those photographs?" Mycroft patiently replied, though I could sense he was somewhat aggravated. "Our hands are tied."

Sherlock smirked. "She'd applaud your choice of words." I giggled behind my hand and Sherlock shot me a wink before glancing back to Mycroft. "Do you see how this works? That camera phone is her 'get out of jail free' card. You have to leave her alone, treat her like royalty Mycroft."

"Though," John stated. "not the way _she _treats royalty." At that moment there's a weird moaning sound in the room. Everyone looked around, John was the only who asked. "What was that?"

"Text." Sherlock stated nonchalantly as he folded his newspaper.

"Well what was that noise?" John asked.

Sherlock ignored him and went to grab his phone. "You knew there were other people after her too Mycroft before you sent John and I in there. CIA trained killers I think."

"What?" I looked at Mycroft. "You didn't!"

"He did." John said. "Thanks for that Mycroft."

"It's a disgrace," Mrs. Hudson said as she came into the room with Sherlock and my breakfast. "sending your little brother into danger like that." I laughed behind my hand at Sherlock's attempt to hide his disdain at Mrs. Hudson's display of affection. She patted his shoulder with her free hand. "Family is all we have in the end Mycroft Holmes."

"Oh shut up Mrs. Hudson!" Mycroft snapped in irritated disgust.

"Mycroft!" Sherlock and I shouted out in unison. All of us stared at Mycroft in shock. Sherlock, is completely offended and I wonder if he's tempted to deck his older brother.

At first, Mycroft wonders what he did that was wrong. Then, he saw the looks of shocked indignation on everyone's faces. Mycroft had the decency to look somewhat ashamed for his actions. "Apologies."

"Thank you." Mrs. Hudson said as she retreated to the kitchen.

"Though do in fact shut up." Sherlock stated.

"Sherlock!" I snapped. "You both need more respect for your elders!"

Then, that blasted phone went off again, making that weird moaning sound. "Bit rude that noise," Mrs. Hudson commented. "isn't it?"

Sherlock glanced at his phone for a second before turning and hiding behind his newspaper again. "It's nothing you can do and nothing she will do that I can see."

Mycroft exhaled wearily. "I can put maximum surveillance on her."

"Why bother, you can follow her on Twitter, I believe her user name is 'The Whip Handler'."

"Why would it be called that?" I ask innocently.

Sherlock stiffened slightly, but I still noticed. "Yes." Mycroft's phone went off and he reached inside his coat pocket to answer it. "Most amusing. Excuse me." Sherlock watched Mycroft as he stepped out of the room. "Hello?"

"Why does your phone make that noise?" John asked casually.

"What noise?" he asked innocently.

"_That _noise," John wasn't going to give up. "the one it just made."

"The moaning noise." I commented. "Or haven't you forgotten it all ready?"

"When it does that, it means I've got a text."

"Hmm," John observed. "your texts don't usually make that noise."

"Well, somebody got a hold of the phone and as a joke personalized their text alert noise."

"Who?" I asked. His phone went off again and I frowned. "And _what _is that sound exactly?"

"Could you turn that down a bit?" Mrs. Hudson asked.

"Sherlock?" I asked.

"How could they have gotten a hold of you phone?" John asked. "It would have been in your coat."

Sherlock had slowly brought the newspaper up to cover his face. "I'll leave you to your deductions."

John smirked. "I'm not stupid you know."

"Where did you get that idea?"

"That's it!" I snatched the newspaper from behind his face. "Since I obviously am an idiot, do you mind sharing with the rest of the class?" Sherlock blinked. "Now, what is that sound that Mrs. Hudson thinks is so rude?"

Sherlock studied me. "Tammy, you're delightfully innocent, I'd like you to stay that way."

"I _want _to know."

"Tammy, let me put it to you this way." He exhaled. "You were making a few sounds similar to that in the bedroom a few minutes ago!"

"Sherlock!" John snapped.

I frowned as my innocent mind began to absorb these words. If it was a woman moaning in pleasure that meant it was…and I knew who was sending the text to Sherlock. "The texts…they're from Irene Adler, aren't they?"

"Yes." The phone went off and bile rose in my throat as Sherlock leaned over and examined the text. I stood up and walked towards the door. "Tammy," he called. "where are you going?"

"Out."

"Why?"

"Figure it out for yourself!" And with that, I slammed the door on whatever he had to say to me.


	6. 6: The sun is jealous of the moon

Chapter Six: The sun is jealous of the moon

* * *

I didn't make it more than forty steps when my temper cooled. I inhaled and coughed, realized that I'd forgotten my scarf and jacket. I spin around and spy Sherlock walking towards me. I shook my head and walked towards him, feeling foolish. "I am sorry." I said. "I just felt-"

"Jealous?" He said as he handed me my jacket and scarf. "It's perfectly natural."

I climbed into my jacket. "Not for me." Sherlock helped me with the sleeves. "Thank you. But it was stifling in there and Mycroft, well," I wrapped my scarf around my neck. "no explanation needed there. He definitely knew what was going on in your bedroom."

"Indeed." He reached for my hand and continued walking with me. "So, why would you be jealous of Adler?"

"Why shouldn't I be?" I asked. "I'm a size 12; she's obviously a size 6 or small 8." He opened his mouth to reply, but I cut him off. "I know that you know what size she is and I don't want to know!"

"All right."

"She's attractive, sensual, seductive, mysterious, intelligent and desirable and that's clearly everything I'm not!" I groaned. "I have no ambitions, I have no personality, and I'm clearly everything that she isn't. I have a temper as well!" Sherlock stopped walking and turned and looked at me with a piercing gaze that caused me to tremble. "What?"

"Nothing. It's just a rare opportunity for me to see the sun jealous of the moon."

I frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

"Irene Adler is the moon, bright, shining, desirable and distant. However, the moon's a harsh mistress." I smiled, he knew that was one of my favorite songs and it would make it easy for me to relate to. "The moon is constantly changing its shape and there's a definite dark side to the moon. You, on the other hand, are like the sun. Constant, always shining, never changing. True, cloud changes do cause the sun to be hidden from our vision from time to time, but it still shines brightly on behind the clouds. Every time the sun shines, warmth is spread all throughout the earth. Everyone loves the sun and is in a cross mood when it doesn't shine, no one grieves if the moon shines or not. Once in a while the moon comes between the sun, but the moon always gives way to the sun." He runs his hand down my cheek. "And when the sun sets….it creates such a beauty in the sky that causes everyone, even the moon to envy it."

I shook my head in amazement. "You…really, can say the right words, when the time is right."

"I was informed yesterday that I do not always do that."

"I'm sorry about that Sherlock."

"And you're right." He said. "I don't open myself up to feelings, emotions; they're all very strange to me."

"I know Sherlock, and at times, I get frustrated with you," he stopped short and studied me. "but I have to also remember that you carry a lot on your shoulders." His eyes narrowed. "And now with this case, even though I don't like…Irene Adler, I shouldn't be throwing a fit and adding more pressure to you. It's really unfair of me and I apologize for my behavior."

"Well, actually, Mycroft took me off the case a few moments ago. So, I decided to come and find you."

"That's kind of you."

"No, you didn't eat your breakfast and Mrs. Hudson was offended."

I laughed. "Right. Well, walk me back home?"

Sherlock nodded as he took my hand. "So, is Baker Street your home now?"

I nestled closer to him, relishing some of his warmth. "As long as you and John are there, then its home to me. Christmas is coming." Sherlock groaned and I laughed. "Sherlock, Christmas is such a merry time of year."

"It's annoying."

"You're annoying." I teased him. "I've got to start planning."

"You were just planning thanksgiving." He reminded me.

"We missed thanksgiving," I reminded him. "things just got too complicated after Moriarty and your parents, it just didn't seem like the time was right. I'll do it next year."

"That is if we haven't broken up by then or you decide to move back to the United States."

I shook my head. "Don't worry, I won't be moved back to the states, or even leave Baker Street. As you said, I'm like the sun, I'm constant. I'll always be here if you need me."

* * *

_Christmas Day,_

* * *

I loved Christmas! It was the most wonderful time of year! But I was plagued with coughs as the temperatures dropped. I'd come back from the club to find that Sherlock had a fire going in my fireplace and the heat was turned up for me.

Sherlock had been gracious enough to let everyone eat in down in his apartment. I put up the decorations the night before Christmas so it wouldn't interfere with Sherlock's odd habit. I even got him to help me decorate the tree and hang lights. John made fun of us by playing Billy Joel's 'She's always a woman' and left it on repeat. Sherlock actually said that the song matched my personality perfectly.

"Hello everyone!" I called as I entered the flat. "I am so sorry I'm late." Sherlock stood up and walked over towards me. "Merry Christmas."

"I'll take your coat." He said.

I smiled brightly. "Thank you." Lestrade and John were trying not to stare at the exchange between us. There was another woman, who I wasn't familiar with. She was wearing an attractive black dress. Her hair was down, her makeup was a little flirty and she was a very lovely looking girl.

"You look very fine." Sherlock murmured behind me, causing me to jump slightly.

"Thank you." I murmured back. "You're looking very debonair yourself tonight."

"How come you always say that Tammy looks fine?" John asked. "She looks beautiful."

"Thank you John. But it's really just the dress."

"That's a beautiful dress." Mrs. Hudson said as she observed my sleeveless white dress. It was really simple. I loved the ruffled, flouncy skirt. I had clipped Sherlock's rose that he'd given me to my hip, giving in some sparkle and glitter. "The rose is…an unusual touch, but nice."

"Thank you." I glanced at Sherlock. "It was a present from someone special."

"Who?" John asked.

"I gave it to her," Sherlock said without glancing up from his laptop that he'd retreated to. "a while back."

"You gave it to her?" Lestrade said. "A fake rose?"

"It was a present on my opening night at the club. It'll remain long after a real one has died." I turned to the lady who was eyeing me with a rather suspicious gleam in her eyes. "I'm Tammy Taylor; I don't believe I know you."

She shook my hand demurely. I observed that she seemed a little shy and ill at ease in her new dress. I recognized the scent of new material and noted that she must have just bought this dress. "I'm Molly Hooper."

"Oh!" I said. "Sherlock's pathologist. It's a pleasure to meet you at last."

Her face brightened a little. "He's mentioned me?"

"Actually," I said gently. "I'm sorry to say that I've read about you in John's blog."

"And…what is your connection to Sherlock?" Molly asked. "He's never mentioned you either."

"Oh, I'm just his-

"Girlfriend." Sherlock interrupted me. "John, come here for a minute."

Molly looked crushed and I wondered if she'd had a crush on Sherlock. "You're his girlfriend?"

I nodded. "Yes. He doesn't ordinarily admit to it. I wonder what John put in the punch."

Molly smiled and turned to Lestrade, who handed her a glass of red wine. "Thank you. I wasn't expecting to see you here. "

"That's first thing in the morning. Me and the wife, we're back together, it's all sorted."

"No, she's sleeping with the P.E teacher." Sherlock said.

I close my eyes as Lestrade's face falls. Molly finds the words though. "And John. I hear you're off to your sister's, is that right?"

"Yeah."

Sherlock was complaining." Sherlock frowns at Molly and she hastens to connect herself. "Saying."

"First time ever, she's cleaned up her act." John raises his glass in a semi-toast. "She's off the booze."

Sherlock mutters. "Nope."

"Shut up, Sherlock." John growls/snaps at him.

But Sherlock won't shut up. "I see you've got a new boyfriend, Molly, and you're serious about him."

Molly is clearly embarrassed. "Sorry, what?"

"In fact, you're seeing him this very night and giving him a gift."

"Shut up Sherlock." I said with a warning in my tone. "You will stop spoiling everyone's Christmas or you're going to get coal instead of my Christmas present for you. Frankly, it's a wonder that Santa didn't give you truckloads."

_That _caught his attention. "You bought me a present? And there is no such thing as Santa Claus."

"I know that." I laughed lightly as I walked over to him. "And of course I bought you a present, we are going together." He pulled me onto his lap and I blushed slightly. "Why wouldn't I buy you a present?"

"Because at this moment I'm holding my Christmas present."

I blinked and shook my head at his words. "That was really sweet of you Sherlock." I kissed his cheek. "And I love it." I turned to John who was wrapped up with his date and trying not to focus on us. "John? Could you go and Lestrade go get my present for Sherlock? It's upstairs and it's a little too big for me to carry down." I turned to Sherlock and placed a finger over his mouth. "And you _will _open them _silently_ and not even attempt to guess them!"

He made a face and talked over my finger. "That won't be much fun."

I smiled. "I'll make it up to you. Tonight."

Sherlock caught the suggestive note in my voice and he smiled at me. John and Lestrade came down carrying the box. It looked like one present, but it was actually three presents I'd purchased for him. "So," John asked. "does Sherlock get to open his first?"

I nodded. "If no one minds. You're going to love this John."

Sherlock's hand slid down to my hip. "John's going to love this and you bought it for me?"

"Yes."

"And this makes sense?"

"Completely."

He swatted my hip and I got up off him. "Well, I better open up this….present."

All eyes were on Sherlock as he removed the blanket, which was a replica of Van Gogh's 'Starry Starry Night.' I wondered if he'd realize it. I couldn't tell, his expression was fairly neutral as he folded up the blanket neatly and set it to the side. Then, he sliced the cardboard box open to reveal the small refrigerator I'd gotten him.

"Now, you can put as many fingers, eyeballs and heads in that without grossing John out." Sherlock glowered at me. "Sorry, but this is a special one. It has extra compartments and you can change the temperature in each compartment."

"I can see that."

"Open it up." I prodded. Sherlock did as I asked and he paused at the sight of the three shirts I'd purchased for him in there. There was a forest green, a red, and a gray-blue plaid shirt, which I couldn't resist buying. "Don't worry; I got them from the store where you always buy your shirts. I just thought you'd like a little variety. If you don't like them, you can return them."

He frowns and looks at me as if I'm crazy. "Now why would I do that?"

"Because you're Sherlock Holmes and you prefer darker colors."

Sherlock leaned over and whispered. "They're wonderful presents. Thank you." Sherlock leaned forward and kissed me on the lips, resting a hand on my bare shoulder. I flushed slightly in embarrassment and pride, but I leaned into his kiss. My hands were gripping his coat lapels when we broke away. "Merry Christmas Tammy."

"Merry Christmas Sherlock." And, his blasted phone went off again. I groaned in embarrassment. "That wasn't me."

"What was that?" Lestrade asked.

"Me." Sherlock said.

"Oh God really?" Lestrade was stunned.

I laughed as Sherlock glowered at him. "My phone."

"Fifty-seven." John said.

"What?" I asked.

"That's fifty-seventh text that I've heard."

"John," Sherlock said as he moved towards the mantelpiece. "as thrilling as it is that you've been counting, you're going to upset Tammy." He then picked up a red package that I didn't remember seeing earlier today. But then, anything could happen. I couldn't see Sherlock's face, but I could read his body posture and something was wrong. "Excuse me."

"What's up Sherlock?" John was in a better position to see Sherlock's face and his expression must have been a curious one.

Sherlock went towards his room. "I said excuse me."

"Do you have a reply?" John called.

Sherlock ignored him and closed the door on John. I exhaled. "And a Merry Christmas to you as well." John got up and went to Sherlock's room. I shook my head. "He won't want to talk to you."

John nodded and I went to help myself to a glass of white wine. "You ok?" I heard John ask.

"Yes." Sherlock then shut the door in John's face.

John came out looking slightly confused. "What is it John?"

"He said to someone, I assume Mycroft," he tilted his head to the side. "that they were going to find, Irene Adler tonight. Dead."


	7. 7: Irene Adler's phone

Chapter Seven: Irene Adler's phone

* * *

The next few days were difficult. Sherlock had dashed out of his room that odd Christmas morning and things had been a little unusual. I had a funny feeling that John was hiding something from me. Sherlock spent his days composing moody and depressing music. There was a shadow in the room and it was a shadow that I couldn't penetrate.

He'd told me once that I was like the sun and Irene was the moon. Sherlock fought on the light side, but he was now infatuated with the dark side and I hadn't realized it. I'd lost him to a dead woman. We didn't need to talk about it, there was nothing to be said, but I knew it. I may seem like a coward for not approaching him, but what could I say to him?

When I got John alone, I asked him to tell me everything that had transpired between them. Irene had walked out naked to greet him and she'd evidentially baffled Sherlock. While he could read anyone at a glance, he couldn't read Irene Adler. After several flirtations back and forth, Sherlock gave her his coat. According to plan, John left to set off the fire alarm and reveal where Irene hid the phone. And the plan worked, until several armed men showed up and demanded the key to the safe. But Sherlock insisted he didn't know the code until they threatened to put a bullet in John's head.

The code; Irene's measurements. But he also realized that there was a loaded gun in the safe, which killed one man. Afterwards, John went and looked into finding out how the men broke in. he returned to find Sherlock lying on the floor, drugged and Irene had gotten the phone from him. She'd then used a ridding crop on him a few times.

To me, she sounded like a horrid woman, but to Sherlock, she was an intricate example of my sex. I knew now that he had some feelings for her all along and I don't blame him. She was definitely more intelligent than I'd given her credit for. She was like a female Sherlock and how was I to compete with that? How could _anyone _compete with Irene Adler and win?

Then, December 31st, everything changed for me. I'd just taken a shower and I was practically dressed. I'd forgotten my shirt was hanging on the edge of my ironing board so I'd walked out to get it. I'd slid into it and I'd just done the second button when the world fell down around my ears.

"Sherlock?" Mrs. Hudson shouted and the terror in her voice caused me to forget my remaining buttons and go to my door.

"Mrs. Hudson?" I peered over the rail to see three men dragging Mrs. Hudson into Sherlock's flat! They were armed and had guns!

"Tammy!" She screamed. "Run!"

"Get her!" one of the men shouted at me. I slammed my door and locked it and speed dialed Sherlock. Wherever he was I hoped he picked up his phone immediately. "Open this door!" the man shouted at me. When he didn't receive the response he wanted, he then shot through the door. I screamed as I instinctively threw myself on the ground.

_Tammy? _Thank God he picked up his phone! _Why are you_

"Sherlock!" I screamed. "Help me!"

_Tammy?! _His voice wasn't restrained; he was genuinely concerned about me. _What's going on?_

"Gunmen at Baker Street!"

The man grabbed my phone from my hand and threw it across the room. I jumped as he then pulled me up from the ground. "Get downstairs! And don't cause anymore trouble!"

I moved quickly, broaching no argument. My heart pounded in my throat and I concentrated on my breathing. I would _not _have a hyperventilation attack now! I stumbled down the stairs to find Mrs. Hudson in a chair and gunman had a gun pointed to her head.

"Well?"

"She got him on her phone. Probably on his way now." The man shot me a dirty look. "With a bunch of coppers."

The man holding the gun to Mrs. Hudson's head rolled his eyes. "Naw, I don't think he will. He'll show up alone."

The other men kept staring at me and I realized that I had dashed out with only one button done on my blouse. I moved to button it and my captor grabbed my wrist. "Leave it." He snarled. I wrenched my hand free from him and shot him a warning glare. He laughed. "Feisty one ain't she?" he ran his hand through my hair. "No wonder he keeps you around." I jerked away from him to realize that he had a handful of my hair in his fist. I refused to cry out for Mrs. Hudson's sake, she was all ready giving into the stress of the situation.

"You will," I snarled out in a voice that was stronger than how I was feeling. "keep your hands off me."

He laughed. "Or what?"

"He will…kill you. And personally, I will look forward to knowing whatever he does to you."

His eyes darkened and I knew in that moment I'd angered him. "He wouldn't kill me, for looking. Now, where is Adler's phone?"

I stared at him as if he were crazy. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah right." He turned and walked away before spinning on his heel and striking me! I couldn't hold back a cry as I fell to the floor with my head spinning crazily. Then, the man was ontop of me. "Where is it?"

"Oh, please stop!" Mrs. Hudson begged. "Please!"

"What do you want?" I shouted.

"Irene Adler's phone." He demanded. "We know he has it and you're his girlfriend. Now, I'll ask you again, where is it?"

"I don't know!" Fright welled up in me and I screamed. "Get off me now!"

"Or what?" he laughed as his other comrades started taunting him, egging him on. "You'll kill me?"

I spit in his eye and he hit me again. I tried kneeing him and succeeding in doing so. I almost dislodged him, but he grabbed ahold of my throat. "I suggest, you start talking now."

"I don't know!" He grabbed at the one button holding my shirt together and pulled it free exposing me to his gaze. I screamed out as he buried his face in my chest. "Stop it! I don't know! He doesn't have it!"

"Hey." One of the men said. "He's coming, knock it off."

"Fine." He sneered over me. "It would have been a pleasure." I lay on the ground, coughing, trembling and crying. "Get up." The man snapped at me. Try as I might, I couldn't find the strength to get up on the couch.

I watched the closed door, waiting for it to open. I heard Sherlock open the door, and then I heard his footprints hesitate. I knew he was deducing the way up here, planning his plan of attack. I hoped John was with him and he happened to have his gun on hand. Then, the footsteps grew closer and then finally the door opened. There he was, Sherlock walked in, hands in his pockets, calm as you please.

"Oh, Sherlock." Mrs. Hudson whimpered.

"Don't snivel Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock stated calmly. "It'll do nothing to impede the flight of a bullet."

"Sorry." She said. "But Tammy-

Sherlock glanced over at me and I saw his eyes flame angrily as he took my state of undress. "She been coughing like that long?" He asked calmly. "Or aren't any of you aware that she has asthma?"

"No, but she's got a few other things of interest."

The man sneered as Sherlock helped me up onto the couch. His eyes scanned my body and he gently touched my throat. He turned around to eye the men, as he put his hands in his pockets, spreading his coat out like a curtain for me. "Button up Tammy." My hands shake as I button up my shirt. "All right, what's this all about?"

"I believe you have something that we want Mr. Holmes."

"Then why don't you ask for it?" he stepped forward, discreetly checking Mrs. Hudson for injuries.

"I've been asking this one, she doesn't seem to know anything." He glanced at me. "The other one doesn't know anything either. It's not smart to keep your girlfriend misinformed about anything. She could wake up with a bullet in her head because she got the wrong person mad. But you know what I'm asking for, don't you Mr. Holmes?"

"I believe I do." Sherlock said as he straightened and backed away. "First get rid of your boys."

"Why?"

"I dislike being outnumbered it makes for too much stupid in the room."

The man exhaled. "You two, go down to the car."

"Then get into the car and drive away." Sherlock said, taking control of the situation. "Don't try to trick me. You know who I am. It doesn't work." The man subtly nodded and the two other men walked away. Sherlock waited patiently for their footsteps to become silent. "Next, you're to stop pointing that gun at me."

"Why, so you can point a gun at me?"

Sherlock began spreading his arms out. "I'm unarmed."

"Mind if I check?"

"Oh I insist."

The man comes around from behind Mrs. Hudson, walks over to Sherlock and pats him down while Sherlock stands there in boredom with his arms out to the side. Walking around behind him, he begins patting for any hidden weapon at his back. Sherlock suddenly bends his right arm towards himself, whipping out a sanitizer spray can, twists around and sprays the contents directly into the man's eyes! The man lets out a shout as Sherlock violently headbutts him in the face. The man falls back over the coffee table, unconscious, as Sherlock flips the can into the air triumphantly.

"Moron." He goes straight to Mrs. Hudson and knelt beside her. "You're all right now."

She nodded. "Yes. But…Tammy, they-

"I'm fine." Sherlock turned towards me; those eyes of his making me tremble all over. But this time, cold has completely washed over me and I pulled my shirt closer to my body. I looked at the ground and moved towards the exit. "I'm going upstairs."

"Tammy," he called behind me. "wait a minute."

He grabbed ahold of my arm and I shout at him. "Don't touch me!"

Sherlock blinked and took a step back. "Alright," he said gently. "I won't touch you. Are you all right?"

I stared at him. "A man shot at me, he then hit me. He then started threatening to rape and strangle me and you're asking if I'm all right? Of course I'm not all right! I want to be left alone!"

"Tammy wait," he says. "there's something else you don't want to know, but you need to know." He inhales and blurts out. "Irene Adler is still alive. She faked her death."

I stare at him in horror. Moment later, I turn and ran up the stairs to my flat. Once there, I went straight to the bedroom and got a whole new set of clothes. I felt dirty and cheap. I could smell that man on me; I could feel his hands and his eyes on me. I went straight to the bathroom, stripped and got into the shower. I turned the hot water on and grabbed my least favorite bath wash scent so I wouldn't have this memory attached to my favorite soap. I scrubbed at my skin as my tears mingled with the hot water pouring down on me. I'd feel better tomorrow; I just needed a good cry.


	8. 8: She's always a woman

Chapter Eight: She's always a woman

* * *

I curled up inside my bathrobe and rubbed my arms. I glanced down at my hand to see that I'd lost Sherlock's ring. I thought back to when I was last wearing it and I seemed to remember I'd had it when I went downstairs. But when that man….I must have lost it in the struggle. I went down the stairs, treading carefully down the stairs. Mrs. Hudson was coming out of Sherlock's flat and she looked semi-recovered.

"Tammy," she approached me. "are you all right?"

I nodded. "Just shaken up a little still. I, er uhm, lost Sherlock's ring. I think I lost it in there."

"Oh come," she said wrapping an arm around me and guiding me into the flat. "I'll help you look."

"That won't be necessary Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock said as he held out his hand to reveal that he had my ring. "I've got it."

I reached for it. "Thank you." He pulled it out of my reach. "May I have it back please?"

"If you'll let me touch you."

My hair on the back of my neck stood up a little. "Where?"

"Your hand."

I nodded. "All right." I let him take my hand and slide the ring back onto my finger, but he didn't release me. "Sherlock, let me go."

Sherlock didn't. "You said that I could touch your hand." He took my other hand. "And that's what I'm doing."

"Sherlock," Mrs. Hudson said. "she's gone through a traumatic experience."

"She's fine." He said firmly as he tugged me forward. "I just need to talk to her for a while, she'll be fine."

"No!" I said firmly. "I _do not _want to talk to you!"

"But, since you and I are together," he pulled me inside his flat. "we do have to talk."

"I don't want to talk!" I snapped. "I don't want to know about Adler either! Get your hands off me!"

His eyes lit up. "So part of this _is _about Adler then?" he stepped closer and placed his hands on my shoulders. "I thought so. You're upset she's alive?"

"Why wouldn't I be upset?" I demanded. "You told me she was dead! Now I'm going to be tortured by that…moaning phone!"

He frowned. "The ringtone irritates you?"

"Oh Sherlock!" I shouted. "Why wouldn't I be upset by it? It's a woman….well you know what I mean! A woman _I do not like _in the least! She's made advances towards me as well! I don't even see why you don't just change the bloody ringtone!"

He studied me for a moment. "Oh, you're such a woman aren't you?" I crossed my arms and frowned at him. "Go upstairs, get dressed, put on your coat, bundle up warmly and don't forget your scarf."

I totally wasn't expecting that. "What for?"

"Just do it."

"Why?"

He exhaled and pointed me towards the door. "Just go. I've got to change."

Now, morbid curiosity moved me to go upstairs and do as he asked. I step into my one pair of dress slacks and slid into a red sweater. I grabbed my coat, gloves and favorite zebra scarf. Instinct made me add red lipstick and these sensational silver dangle earrings.

I went down the steps and my phone rang. I pulled it out answered it. "Hello?"

_Tammy. _I almost dropped the phone when I realized that it was Moriarty on the other end. _Are you all right?_

"What do you want?" I demanded. "I don't want to talk to you!"

_I heard some killers attacked you today. _He said drolly. _I wanted to make sure you're all right._

"I was fine until you called."

_It's New Years Eve._ He reminded me. _In case you decide Sherlock isn't worth it._

"I love him."

I said it firmly and I knew that he believed me. _Why?_

"Because, he's my sun."

_Your sun? What does that mean?_

"Figure it out and don't call me again." I clicked the phone off and went down to the flat.

"Come in!" Sherlock called. I pushed the door open and I froze as I took in the sight of him. "What?" He asked as if his appearance were no big deal. "Something wrong in the way I look?"

"You're wearing…jeans."

He rolled his eyes. "Of course. I'm wearing the shirt you got me. You've got good taste, I actually like the blue plaid. I didn't think I would." He stepped towards me and scent of Sherlock's cologne filled my senses. "You're wearing pants."

I nod. "I'm not sure what we're going to be doing."

"You dressed appropriately." He runs those eyes of his over me. "You look lovely. Are you ready to go?"

I nodded. "Yes, but I still don't understand where we're going."

"You'll see." He grabbed his coat and pulled it on.

"I hate surprises."

"I know," he grinned at me. "but you're going to love this."

Sherlock refused to answer any of my questions as we got in the taxi, Sherlock handed our destination on a piece of paper to the driver so I couldn't see where we were going. It was only five minutes away, but Sherlock said I didn't need more cold air than necessary. And then the taxi pulled up in front of a deserted skating rink.

I blinked. "Where is everyone?"

He shrugged as he tugged me to the ice. "A friend of mine closed it down for half an hour for us."

"Sherlock!" The moment I said his name, the ice rink lit up, dozens of sparkling Christmas lights. White, turquoise and pink. There were candles on the ice as well, definitely the remote controlled candles. It would have almost been romantic, except this was Sherlock I was with. He assisted me in getting on my shoes, which were waiting by the ice entrance. The thought of getting onto ice caused me to balk. "Sherlock, I'm not too good on slippery surfaces."

"I've got you." He helped me up onto the ice and I pulled away from him to hold onto the side. He shrugged and skated off to the opposite end of the rink, he was good and I felt like a total klutz. He skated back over to me with a careless grin. "Come on."

"It's slippery." And to prove my point, I tripped over my own foot, catching myself on the rail.

Sherlock reached out to steady me, but I shot him a look that warned him to keep his hands off me. He skated slowly backwards while he watched me. "A skate can slide over ice because the ice molecules at the surface cannot properly bond with the molecules of the mass of ice beneath and thus are free to move like molecules of liquid water. These molecules remain in a semi-liquid state, providing lubrication."

"Fascinating." I muttered. Why was he telling me all this useless information?

"It had long been believed that ice is slippery because the pressure of an object in contact with it causes a thin layer to melt. The hypothesis was that the blade of an ice skate, exerting pressure on the ice, melts a thin layer, providing lubrication between the ice and the blade. This explanation, called "pressure melting", originated in the 19th century."

"Sherlock, I am more worried about falling and breaking my neck!"

"Skating depends on the roughness of the ice, the design of the ice skate, and the skill and experience of the skater. While serious injury is rare, a number of short track skaters have been paralyzed after a fall when they hit the boarding." Now I definitely wasn't feeling any better. "Falling can be fatal if a helmet is not worn to protect against serious head trauma. Accidents are rare but most common with collisions, hockey games, or pair skating."

"Sherlock!" I shouted. "Do you mind?!"

"Actually, I was running out of ice skating facts." He laughed as he skated towards me. "I was waiting for you to do that!"

"Do what? Shout at you?"

"You actually took several steps towards me." I looked down and realized I was away from the rail. Sherlock skated up to me and grabbed ahold of my arm. "Now, shall we?"

"I don't know Sherlock."

"You're supposed to trust me."

"I did."

"You did?"

I held onto his arm tightly. "That was before Adler showed up and you got me on ice!" tears again threatened to spill over but frankly I was tired of crying in front of Sherlock. "I know you had feelings for her! I'm not stupid or blind Sherlock!"

He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and I squirmed slightly. "How long have you known?"

"Since Christmas. I said I wouldn't leave, but if you want to take my ring back, go ahead."

_She can kill with a smile; she can wound with her eyes. She can ruin your faith with her casual lies. _Sherlock spun me around to face him and I grabbed onto his shoulders for support._ And she only reveals what she wants you to see. She hides like a child but she's always a woman to me. _

"Do you want me to take it back?" he asked.

_She can lead you to love; she can take you or leave you._

I shook my head and looked down at the ground. "No. But, Sherlock, this is hard for me. I know that you've allowed me to get close but Irene. That phone and….my life was put in danger because of her phone!"

_She can ask for the truth but she'll never believe you._

He took ahold of my chin. "I'm up here, not down there." My eyes burned and I tried to look anywhere but at his face. "I'm here with you," he pointed out. "not her. What does that tell you?" _And she'll take what you give her as long as it's free. Yeah, she steals like a thief but she's always a woman to me. _"You're just upset." He said calmly and rationally. "You're scared." Sherlock pulled me into his arms, rubbing my shoulders. "I'm here Tammy."

_Oh, she takes care of herself; she can wait if she wants. She's ahead of her time. Oh, and she never gives out and she never gives in. She just changes her mind._ I just stood there and held onto Sherlock tight as the silent tears leaked down my cheeks. But just having him holding me tight in this moment made all my fears slowly evaporate. "It's ok to cry. I'm told it makes a woman feel better."

"I am crying."

"Sorry, continue. Though frankly 96% of men feel uncomfortable when a woman cries."

_And she'll promise you more than the Garden of Eden, then she'll carelessly cut you and laugh while you're bleeding. But she brings out the best and the worst you can be. Blame it all on yourself cause she's always a woman to me._

I pulled away and wiped my eyes. "I'm fine. Honest. I cry too much."

Sherlock smiled as he wiped my eyes. "You're the prettiest crier I've ever seen." He took my hand. "Shall we?"

"Definitely."

I inhaled, gripped Sherlock's hand and followed his lead. I actually loosened my scarf so I could breathe in some of the night air. _Oh, she takes care of herself; she can wait if she wants. She's ahead of her time. _Sherlock took a hold of my arms and pulled me in front of him. Odd enough, I felt confident enough on ice, as long as he held onto me._ Oh, and she never gives out and she never gives in. She just changes her mind. She is frequently kind and she's suddenly cruel._

I stumbled over my heel and went down. Sherlock let out a shout as he landed on top of me. He cushioned my head with his arm so his arm took the brunt of my weight. I started laughing and he didn't ask if I was all right, my laughter confirmed it.

_She can do as she pleases, she's nobody's fool. But she can't be convicted, she's earned her degree. And the most she will do is throw shadows at you. But she's always a woman to me._

Sherlock pulled me up and wrapped the scarf around my mouth. "You're coughing."

"I'm fine, honest."

"For the moment."

"Where did you learn to skate?"

"It's really basic physics Tammy." We went around the rink a few more times until my coughing started to annoy him. "Let's get you warm." He guided me towards the exit.

"John's probably wondering where we are."

"He still has a wait, this…date isn't over yet."

"This is a date?" he nodded. "Why didn't you say so! Never mind, I know. It was so obvious I should have known. Right?"

He nodded. "Sound deduction. Ready for part two?"

"Definitely."


	9. 9: Meeting the woman

Chapter Nine: Meeting the woman

* * *

_Several months later,_

* * *

"Easy!" I say as Sherlock and John trot up the stairs with groceries. "Done some shopping I see."

"Yes." Sherlock hands me a bag as he reaches into his pocket for his key. "Come on."

I roll my eyes and follow. "So, how are things going these days?"

"Very well." He stops abruptly and studies me. "Are you doing anything tonight?"

I shake my head. "No. why?"

"Oh, we're going out tonight."

I tilt my head. "We are?"

He nods. "Yes."

I shrug. "Ok, but a lady likes to be asked." Sherlock moves off towards his bedroom and I roll my eyes at John. "He's funny."

"Hysterical." John says sarcastically. "I still don't understand why you put up with him."

"Oh, John," I smile brightly. "you know very well why I do."

"We have a client." Sherlock says bluntly.

"What," John asks. "in your bedroom?"

I pause from where I'm putting the groceries away. "What? Surely not."

I follow John to where Sherlock is standing in the doorway of his bedroom. I peer around his shoulder to see exactly what I did not expect to see. Irene Adler, sound asleep in Sherlock's bed. I look at Sherlock, he doesn't acknowledge my existence. I swiftly turn and I walk briskly up the stairs. Sherlock doesn't follow me, nor do I expect him to follow me.

* * *

Its late afternoon when I emerge from my flat to go down and decide to go take a walk. "Tammy?" Sherlock calls from his flat as I begin to descend. "Come in here for a moment."

"I'm busy."

"The walk can wait. Come here."

I groan and stomp over to the flat and push the door open. The sight that greets my eyes causes me to pause in the doorway. Irene is wearing one of Sherlock's dressing gowns and is sitting in his chair. She looks at me, studying me with a catlike eye. "So," her voice came out as a seductive purr. "this is your mystery girl." She stands up and approaches me with a smirk. She was really much more attractive in real life than in photos. "So Tam, do you spell your named with an 'I' or 'Y'? I'm really curious."

"It's a 'Y' Irene." I stated. "Just as there are two 'D's in Adder." Irene was a snake and definitely as poisonous as an adder. Coincidence that adder and Adler were similar? I think not.

She laughed. "She's got a witty tongue."

"Indeed." Sherlock stands up, studying the two of us. "You've no idea."

"You could be so much more attractive if you did your makeup properly. Your eyes are your good, but you don't emphasize them." Irene boldly reached out and rubbed her hand down my cheek. "Fine cheekbones though." Sherlock steps towards her at the same time I brought my hand up and slapped her face. Irene didn't cry out, she simply smiled at me. "Well, the rabbit does have a bit of fire after all."

Sherlock took my hand and moved me away from Irene. "Keep your claws off her Irene. She's all ready threatened to turn you into one of the Hulk's creations a few times. Tammy is straight."

"So many women have told me that." She continued looking at me as if I was a mouse and she was a cat. "But I always prove so many of them wrong."

"You're…disgusting." I spit at her.

"So," Sherlock says conversationally. "who's after you?"

"People who want to kill me."

"Who's that?"

"Killers."

John says. "It would help if you were a tiny bit more specific."

"Would angry wives," I ask. "be part of that mob?"

"So you faked your own death," Sherlock summarized. "in order to get ahead of them."

Irene focuses on Sherlock. "It worked for a while."

"Except you let John know that you were alive, and therefore me."

Irene holds eye contact with him. "I knew you'd keep my secret."

"You couldn't."

"But you did, didn't you?" Irene purrs. "Where's my camera phone?"

"It's not here." John says. "We're not stupid."

"Aren't we?" I mutter.

"Sit down." Sherlock whispers. "Everything's fine."

"Then what have you done with it?" Irene asks. "If they've guessed you've got it, they'll be watching you."

"If they've been watching me," Sherlock points out. "they'll know that I took a safety deposit box at a bank on the Strand a few months ago."

"I need it."

"Well, we can't just go and get it, can we?"

John looks at me and I shake my head. "No way."

"Molly Hooper." John suggests. "She could collect it, take it to Bart's; then one of your homeless network could bring it here, leave it in the café, and one of the boys downstairs could bring it up the back.

Sherlock smiles. "Very good, John. Excellent plan, with intelligent precautions."

John puffs up slightly, "Thank you."

I glower at Sherlock. "But it won't work."

Sherlock smiles as he takes Irene's camera phone out of his jacket pocket. Irene stands up and walks towards him. "So what do you keep on here," he holds the phone out of her reach. "in general, I mean?"

"Pictures, information," Irene shrugs carelessly. "anything I might find useful."

"What for?" John asks. "Blackmail?"

"For protection."

I roll my eyes. "I believe they take care of that for you at any pharmacy."

Irene smiles at me. "I make my way in the world; I misbehave. I like to know people will be on my side exactly when I need them to be."

"So," Sherlock says quickly. "how do you acquire this information?"

"I told you," Irene points out. "I misbehave."

"But you've acquired something that's more danger than protection." Sherlock is going into his deduction mode. "Do you know what it is?"

"Yes, but I don't understand it."

"I assumed, show me." Irene holds out her hand for the phone. Sherlock still holds it out of her reach. "The passcode."

She continues to hold her hand out, and Sherlock sits forward and hands her the phone. I sit back as Irene types in the four characters for the passcode. Sherlock has a very anxious look on his face. The phone lets out an irritated beep. "It's not working."

Sherlock stands up and taking the phone from her. "No, because it's a duplicate that I had made, into which you've just entered the numbers 1058." He walks over to his chair and retrieves her real phone from under the cushion. "I assumed you'd choose something more specific than that but, um, thanks anyway."

He looks at her smugly as he types in the code. The phone lets out an angry beep. Sherlock stares at it in disbelief. I shrug. "Why am I not surprised?"

"I told you that camera phone was my life." Irene simpers. "I know when it's in my hand."

"Oh," Sherlock breathes out. "you're rather good."

Irene smiles at him. "You're not so bad."

She holds her hand out again and takes the phone from him. John and I frown at the pair of them as they have intense eye contact for the next few seconds. I jump up just as John blurts out abruptly. "Hamish." They both turn to look at him. "John Hamish Watson, just if you were looking for baby names."

Sherlock frowns in confusion. I bite my tongue hard and bite out. "To business, now, boys?"

Sherlock glances at me. "Something the matter?"

"No. I've got things to do and I have no idea why I'm here!" I snap and turn to Irene. "You were saying?"

Her brows arch in amusement. "There was a man, an MOD official. I knew what he liked." She turns her back so they can't see her screen or keypad as she types in her real passcode. "One of the things he liked was showing off. He told me this email was going to save the world. He didn't know it, but I photographed it." She hands the phone to Sherlock. "He was a bit tied up at the time. It's a bit small on that screen, can you read it?

Sherlock sits down, studying the picture carefully. "Yes."

"A code, obviously. I had one of the best cryptographers in the country take a look at it, though he was mostly upside down, as I recall. Couldn't figure it out." Sherlock remains concentrating on the screen. "What can you do, Mr. Holmes?" She leans over his shoulder and I tense up. "Go on. Impress a girl."

Irene leans in and kissed Sherlock's cheek. I bite my lip as utter jealousy surges in my veins and I try to keep it under control as Sherlock begins speaking rapidly. "There's a margin for error but I'm pretty sure there's a 747 leaving Heathrow tomorrow at 6:30 in the evening for Baltimore. Apparently it's going to save the world. Not sure how that can be true but give me a moment; I've only been on the case for eight seconds." He looks up at John then glances at Irene. "Oh, come on. It's not code. These are seat allocations on a passenger jet. Look: there's no letter 'I' because it can be mistaken for a '1'; no letters past 'K,' the width of the plane is the limit. The numbers always appear randomly and not in sequence but the letters have little runs of sequence all over the place, families and couples sitting together. Only a Jumbo is wide enough to need the letter 'K' or rows past fifty-five, which is why there's always an upstairs. There's a row thirteen, which eliminates the more superstitious airlines. Then there's the style of the flight number, 070, that eliminates a few more. And assuming a British point of origin, which would be logical considering the original source of the information and assuming from the increased pressure on you lately that the crisis is imminent. The only flight that matches all the criteria and departs within the week is the 6:30 to Baltimore tomorrow evening from Heathrow Airport."

I shake my head and exhale. "Wow….impressive."

But Sherlock is looking at Irene, who gazes up at him in admiration. "Please don't feel obliged to tell me that was remarkable or amazing. John's expressed the same thought in every possible variant available to the English language."

Irene's voice is intense. "I would have you right here on this desk until you begged for mercy twice."

I can't stand it anymore. I jump up and stomp towards the door, after spitting at Irene. The spit landing in the back of her head. Sherlock catches ahold of my arm. "What has gotten into you?"

"Into me?!" I shriek. "What's gotten into _you_?!"

"I'm not the one spitting at clients."

"I wasn't spitting at a client. I was spitting at a whore."

I wrench free from his grasp and throw myself towards the door. "Tammy?" Sherlock calls. "Wait a minute!" I slam the door and run down the steps. "Tammy?"

"Leave me alone!" I shout. "Just leave me alone!"

"Don't run down the steps! You're wearing heels and you could fall!"

I can't stand this any longer. I head straight out the front door Mrs. Hudson is coming out of a taxi. I jump in and order the driver to take off without declaring a destination. I exhale and look up to see Sherlock come charging down the steps after me. I hold my breath as we lock eyes. I see the hurt in his eyes, but I do not think that it mirrors the hurt in my eyes.


	10. 10: Other lady

Chapter ten: Other lady

* * *

I come down the stairs as quietly as possible, my white heels clicking on the creaking wooden stairs. Sherlock and I hadn't talked at all, but I wasn't sure I wanted too. I'd been avoiding him all day and I realized that I was acting like a child. At that moment I decided that I would stick my head in to see him and John. But I knew that I really wanted to know if Adler was still there. I'd also apologize to Sherlock as well.

I raise my hand to knock on his door, but I find it ajar, so I peer through it. Sherlock is in his chair; Irene is across from him, still in his robe. Again, they're both locked in deep eye contact. "Have you ever had anyone?"

My heart stops at her blunt question that she's asked Sherlock. Who did she think she was? Oh, my bad. It's Irene Adler. I hold my breath as I peer through the door to see Sherlock looking at her with a somewhat blank expression on his face. "Sorry?"

"And when I say "had"," Irene purrs. "I'm being indelicate."

"I don't understand."

"Well, I'll be delicate then." Getting up from her chair she walks over and kneels in front of Sherlock. She places her hand on top of his hand and curling her fingers around his wrist. "Let's have dinner."

My heart stops. "Why?"

"Might be hungry."

"I'm not."

"Good.

Sherlock sits forward a little and slowly turns his hand over hers. My heart stops as he curls his fingers around her wrist. "Why would I want to have dinner if I wasn't hungry?"

Slowly, Irene begins to lean forward, her gaze fixed on his lips, intent on kissing him. "Oh, Mr. Holmes," they're now close enough to kiss. "if it was the end of the world, if this was the very last night, would you have dinner with me?"

Mrs. Hudson calls up the stairs. "Sherlock!"

Irene exhales with a disappointed tone in her voice. "Too late."

"That's not the end of the world," Sherlock points out. "that's Mrs. Hudson."

Irene pulls her hand free and stands up, walking away from him as Mrs. Hudson comes up the stairs. "Tammy?" I shift away from the door and approach her. "What are you doing outside Sherlock's door?"

"Nothing." I can hear Sherlock jump up from his seat and I hurry towards the stairs. "Nothing at all. I don't know what I'm doing here. It was all a big mistake."

"Tammy?" Sherlock calls. "Wait a minute."

I shake my head. "No." I look up and glower at him. "I don't want to disturb your dinner."

Sherlock grabs me and spins me around sharply. I gasp and hold my breath at the look in his eyes. "Irene and I _are not _having dinner tonight."

"I know." I bite out. "_We_ most certainly aren't having dinner tonight _either_!"

Sherlock pulls me towards me and captures my lips in a bruising kiss. I whimper and struggle against him. He breaks the kiss, his eyes flashing darkly. "You and I have a date tonight, and you _will _keep it."

I can't speak, I can't even breathe, and I feel as if I've been frozen to the floor. "Sherlock," Mrs. Hudson's voice causes him to release me. "this man was at the door." I push past her and hurry down the stairs. "Is the bell still not working?"

"Tammy," Sherlock calls after me. "be careful!"

"I can take care of myself!" I slam the door and hurry away into the night, fighting back the tears and pain that I desperately want to unleash. But I've got to concentrate, I've got a show to do, and I put my 'mask' on my emotions so I can be ready for whatever else the evening holds ahead.

* * *

_Do you ever, other lady, as you're walking through your day?_ This was a perfect song choice at first, but now, with Irene in the picture I regretted my choice. It was _way _too personal now._ Think about the man we're sharing, think which one of us is play? Do you wonder, other lady, if you've passed me on the street? Would you know it's me you're seeing? Would your heart speed up a beat? _

I lick my lips and look down at the ground. _Do you see me in his eyes? Do you feel me coming through? Does he bring my scent in with him? _Tears are threatening to pour down my cheeks as I try to maintain control over this song._ Does he have my funny smile? Do you laugh at things I say? Do you do things our way? Do you know me, other lady? _I look up and see Sherlock and Irene standing a few feet away, waiting for me. _I know you. _

Irene smiles as we make eye contact. _When I'm lonely, other lady, I pretend I'm you not me. You become the waiting woman. I'm the one he goes to see. _I drop my gaze as tears burn my eyes._ Let's be friends, there is nothing left to be._ I look up at her and admit freely._ I have always known he loves you. _She smiles at me, but it's soon diminished when I point out to her. _You know he depends on me. _

Sherlock whispers something in her ear, causing her to laugh at him. _Do you see me in his eyes? _I demand that she look at me as I sing directly to her. _Do you feel me coming through? Does he bring my scent in with him? Does he have my funny smile? Do you laugh at things I say? _Hurt wells up in me and I let my hurt pour out of me as I sing those lyrics. _Do you do things our way? Do you know me, other lady?_ As I hold that note, Sherlock impatiently stalks up to me as I sing the final notes._ I know you._

He grabs ahold of my hand and pulls me off the stage. The audience protests as I stumble after him. "Come on, I need you."

"Sherlock!" I protest. "I am right in the middle of a show!"

"I don't care. I need you." He pulls his coat off and drapes it over my shoulders. "Come."

"Touching." Irene sneers.

"She's allergic to cold air." He points out. "Can't have her coughing all night."

"Sherlock let me go."

"Not now." We come outside and I see Mycroft standing outside, with his dark limousine and a rather exhausted look about him. Sherlock nods at Mycroft. "You two go on ahead, Tammy and I will take a cab."

"I'm not going anywhere!"

"Oh yes you are!" Sherlock flags a taxi, all the while refusing to release his firm hold on my hand. "We'll see you there."

"Sherlock!" I protest. "I need-

"Let's get in." he pushes me into the taxi. "Baker Street." He turns to me as the taxi driver pulls away from the curb. "Now, I need your help breaking the code on Irene's phone."

"You don't need _anyone's _help Sherlock, and you certainly don't need _mine_!"

"Can we argue about this later?" He asks. "I've just put hundreds of people's lives at stake by helping Adler."

"And I'm your push broom?"

"No, you're my heart." I jump at his words. I look at him, finding a sincere look in his eyes. "For some reason you have a knack of solving riddles. I can't do this without you, I need your help." He reaches over and takes my hand. "Will you help me?"

I exhale and shake my head in despair. "I really shouldn't do this, but I will." Sherlock exhales and smiles broadly at me. "Now, give me the facts."

"You're wonderful." He clears his throat and focuses on me. "Now, Adler has had possession of her phone now, so she could have changed the code now."

"Anything about her that I should know?"

"She's attracted to me."

"I guessed that." I fight to keep the bitterness out of my voice. "I heard the dinner invite."

"She's not my type. You're more my type. You've always been my type." My mouth drops open in surprise. "Now, can we please solve this and get Adler out of our lives? Because I have a dinner for you tonight that you really do not want to miss."


	11. 11: Sher-locked

Chapter eleven: Sher-locked

* * *

"Sherlock," Mycroft snapped the moment Sherlock and I entered the room together. "you really didn't have to drag Tammy along, did you?"

Sherlock shrugged indifferently. "Why shouldn't I have?"

Mycroft groaned. "I should arrange a flight to Ireland for Tammy, with all expense paid for a week."

"No thank you Mycroft," I said. "however tempting the idea, I don't like going special places by myself."

"And what makes you think she's going anywhere without me?" Sherlock said as he moves towards his chair. "But hold onto that offer Mycroft, we might take it later."

I arch my brow. "We? When has there ever been a 'we' Sherlock?"

"And how could there ever be?" Irene purrs. "Just look at her!"

"Now ladies," Mycroft speaks up before Irene and I can get into a catfight. "shall we try to keep things friendly in this unfriendly business? Unless Tammy has something to add, I'll begin with you Adler." Sherlock sits in his chair, with his back towards Mycroft and Irene. I walk over to him and stand there, my mind frantically trying to unravel Irene Adler. Mycroft points down at her phone which is lying on the table in front of him. "We have people who can get into this."

"I tested that theory for you." Irene smirks. "I let Sherlock Holmes try it for six months." Sherlock closes his eyes briefly in humiliation. I instinctively reach for his hand, but draw my hand back. "Sherlock, dear, tell him what you found when you X-rayed my camera phone."

His tone is flat. "There are four additional units wired inside the casing, I suspect containing acid or a small amount of explosive." Mycroft lowers his head in despair. "Any attempt to open the casing will burn the hard drive."

"Explosive." She looks at Mycroft. "It's more me."

He holds her gaze. "Some data is always recoverable."

"Take that risk?"

"You have a passcode to open this. I deeply regret to say we have people who can extract it from you."

Irene's tone is way too calm. "Sherlock?"

"There will be two passcodes: one to open the phone, one to burn the drive. Even under duress you can't know which one she's given you and there will be no point in a second attempt."

I exhale. "She sure locked her phone down, didn't she?"

She smirks. "He's good, isn't he? I should have him on a leash, in fact, I might."

She gazes at Sherlock intensely and I can't remain silent. "God, you're a disgusting woman."

"We destroy this, then." Mycroft says, hastily changing the subject. "No one has the information."

"Fine." She smiles. "Good idea ... unless there are lives of British citizens depending on the information you're about to burn."

"Are there?"

"Telling you would be playing fair." Her voice lowers to a raspy whisper. "I'm not playing any more." She reaches into her handbag hands Mycroft and envelope. "A list of my requests; and some ideas about my protection once they're granted." Mycroft takes the sheet of paper from the envelope and starts to read it. "I'd say it wouldn't blow much of a hole in the wealth of the nation, but then I'd be lying." He raises his eyebrows in amazement as he reads her demands. "I imagine you'd like to sleep on it."

"Thank you, yes."

"Too bad." Sherlock snorts in almost silent amusement at Irene's tone. "Off you pop and talk to people."

Mycroft sinks back in his chair. "You've been very ... thorough. I wish our lot were half as good as you." For a second, I thought I hear a note of admiration in Mycroft's voice. I immediately dismiss the thought because Mycroft doesn't admire anyone.

"I can't take all the credit, had a bit of help." She looks across to Sherlock. I reach out and take his hand. He looks up at me, a faint smile on his lips. "Oh, Jim Moriarty sends his love."

Sherlock and I both stiffen at the mention of his name. "Yes, he's been in touch." Mycroft sounds indifferent. But I can't help but wonder why Moriarty would be talking to Mycroft. "Seems desperate for my attention, which I'm sure can be arranged."

I exhale. "One wolf recognizes another."

Irene stands up and sits on the edge of the table near Mycroft. "I had all this stuff, never knew what to do with it. Thank God for the consultant criminal." I sneak a glance at Irene, from her body language, she's almost flirting with Mycroft. Good luck there! "Gave me a lot of advice about how to play the Holmes boys. Do you know what he calls you?" she addresses Mycroft. "The Ice Man." Getting nothing, she turns and looks at Sherlock. "and the Virgin." She's clearly mocking him and that's aggravating me. Sherlock isn't even listening to her. "Didn't even ask for anything. I think he just likes to cause trouble. Now that's my kind of man."

Sherlock closes his eyes, letting out a sigh. I speak up. "If that's a _man _to you then you're in for a brutal surprise and I hope you pay for it."

"And here you are the dominatrix who brought a nation to its knees." Mycroft stands wearily to his feet and gives Irene a small, mock bow. "Nicely played."

"No." Sherlock says calmly.

We all turn to him in surprise. "Sorry?" Irene frowns.

Sherlock turns his head towards them. "I said no. Very, very close, but no." He stands and starts to walk towards her. "You got carried away. The game was too elaborate. You were enjoying yourself too much."

"No such thing as too much."

"Oh, enjoying the thrill of the chase is fine, craving the distraction of the game; I sympathize entirely, but sentiment? Sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side."

"Sentiment?" Irene frowns. "What are you talking about?"

"You."

"Oh dear God." I catch just a note of worry in Irene's voice. "Look at the poor man. You don't actually think I was interested in you? Why, because you're the great Sherlock Holmes, the clever detective in the funny hat?"

He steps even closer to her, their bodies almost touching. "No." He reaches out and wraps his hand around her left wrist, then leans forward so he can whisper in her ear. "Because I took your pulse. Elevated; your pupils dilated." He releases her hand and pick up phone from the table. "I imagine John Watson thinks love's a mystery to me but the chemistry is incredibly simple. To tell you the truth, I've been getting lessons somewhat on that particular human emotion lately." He walks towards me and places his arm on my waist, surprising me. "When we first met, you told me that disguise is always a self-portrait. How true of you: the combination to your safe, your measurements; but this," he tosses the phone into the air and catches it again. "this is far more intimate. This is your heart." without breaking eye contact, he punches in the first of the four numbers with his thumb. I saw the panic in Irene's eyes and knew he'd won. "You could have chosen any random number and walked out of here today with everything you've worked for, but you just couldn't resist it, could you?

Irene grabs his hand softly pleading with him. "Everything I said: it's not real." She whispers. "I was just playing the game."

"I know." He pulls his hand free and types in the final key. "And this is just losing." He turns the phone towards her and shows her the screen. She looks down at it, tears begin to puddle in her eyes.

I step beside Sherlock and read it. It says, I AM SHERLOCKED. I groan. "Why didn't I think of that?"

Sherlock hands the phone over to Mycroft. "There you are, brother. I hope the contents make up for any inconvenience I may have caused you tonight."

Mycroft smiles with relief. "I'm certain they will."

He shoots Irene and Mycroft a pointed look. "Incidentally, it was Tammy who cracked the code." My mouth drops open. "She actually said it a while back."

Irene stared at me, a weird combination of shock, anger and some respect in her eyes. "I'd have never thought it of you."

I shrug. "Well, I am Moriarty's sister. And I've been hanging around Sherlock Holmes, so some things do rub off on people. I just happen to spend my time in better company."

Irene glowered at me. "I don't know what he sees in you."

"I see quite a lot and I'm glad that I'm the only one who sees that." Sherlock wrapped his arm around my waist. "Do you really think I'd fall in love with just any girl in the world?" I stared at him. That did it! Sherlock Holmes was officially insane! He just told Irene that….no…Sherlock did not just say that. I must be hearing things or this is his evil twin brother! "No. Tammy is something special. What you and she need to know is…you never really had a chance." He released me and stepped towards her. "We may be of like minds, highly intelligent beings, but you're simply just... not... her."

Irene's eyes widened. "You can't possibly mean that…that little wilted violet caught your attention. Just…look at her!"

I wrap Sherlock's coat tightly around me as I take in the sight of Irene. She is dressed beautifully, fully made up and with her hair perfectly done up. My dress is hidden by Sherlock's coat, my makeup is streaky and uneven, my hair, it's a tangled mess thanks to the stressful taxi ride. Irene was right; I was not very attractive, when compared to her.

"Actually, Tammy never had to catch my attention." He turned towards me. "She dominated my attention the moment we met." I squirmed under his penetrating gaze and he smiles slightly. "She's a fascinating creature; her attitude varies throughout the hour. She's got a fiery temper and yet she is definitely the kindest, sweetest and most interesting example of the female sex that I know." I could only stare at Sherlock as he continued speaking while slowly moving towards me. "She puts up with everything I do, she even tolerates the fact that I was, momentarily, seemingly infatuated with you. She flies into a rage one minute over little things and yet her heart holds up under the greatest pain of all. The fear of being unloved." Sherlock took my hands in his; I could tell he was taking my pulse. "Listen to me Tammy, because I'm only going to say this two more times to you." I looked up at him and waited for the words to come out. He was silent for a long time, debating, it was almost as if he were unsure how I'd react to whatever it was he was going to say. Then… he said the words. "I love you Tammy." My world spun around in my head and I swayed just a little. I couldn't believe he said that to me in front of his brother and Irene! "And you're the only woman I have loved."

"You can't possibly mean that!" Irene burst out.

"Sherlock, for God's sake," Mycroft says. "if you're just making this up-

"I do mean it, and I am not making it up. Like most people, you see but you do not observe." He turned away from me, but didn't let me go. "If you're feeling kind, lock her up; otherwise let her go. I doubt she'll survive long without her protection."

Irene stares at him, her eyes wide with dread. "Are you expecting me to beg?"

His tone is flat and calm. "Yes."

She stares at him in anguish for several seconds, before realizing that she has no choice. "Please." He doesn't blink. "You're right. I won't even last six months."

"Sorry about dinner." Sherlock glances at his watch. "I have an important, pressing, dinner engagement _with Tammy_ and we're going to be late." He glances at me as he shrugs out of his coat. "I had Mrs. Hudson leave a dress out for you in your room while we were on our way here. Go upstairs, put it on and then meet me down here again."

"You can't order her around like that Sherlock." Mycroft said.

I hold his intense gaze. "I'd forgotten…you'd asked me to dinner earlier today."

"And make it quick." He began pulling off his shirt. "We don't have much time left."

I nodded and stumbled up the stairs. I'd made it up to my flat when I heard Mycroft shout, "What?" Irene let out a sound that I didn't understand. "Sherlock, you _CAN'T _be serious!?"

Sherlock laughed loudly at them and I closed the door. I entered my bedroom to find my black cocktail dress on my bed, freshly ironed. I began pulling off my clothes, dropping them on the ground. I don't know why I was doing what he said, all things considered. But then again, this was Sherlock. I washed up, fixed my makeup, climbed into my dress, slid on my heels and grabbed my coat. I trotted down the stairs, hanging onto the rail.

Mycroft and Irene come out of Sherlock's flat and both looked upset. Mycroft looks at me and shook his head. Irene, she looked at me as if I was an inferior insect. "I don't understand it." She said to Mycroft. "Why her?"

"I don't know." Mycroft studies me, before speaking with a warning tone in his voice. "Be careful Tammy, for your sake, say 'no'."

I frown. "I-I don't know what you mean."

"Oh for God's sake," Sherlock said as he came out pulling his coat. "stop talking about Tammy as if she weren't here. And don't go giving her any hints." He looks at me briefly before taking my hand. "Right. Let's go."


	12. 12: The proposal

Chapter Twelve: The proposal

* * *

I was scared, and I had no idea why I was so scared. But it wasn't a terrifying scared, it was more of a nervous scared. Neither of us spoke to each other as we walked briskly down the street. The only sounds I honestly noted were the sounds of Sherlock drumming his fingers impatiently on the side of his leg. I shivered and he noticed. "Still cold?" I nodded and he released my hand so he could wrap his arm around my shoulder. "Better?"

"A little." I frowned as I hesitantly placed my hand on his waist. "Where are we going?"

"Angelo's."

"Oh!" I said. "I should have realized. We're one building away from it now."

Sherlock stopped abruptly and stepped in front of me. "What hunts in the middle of a crowd? Who do we trust even when we don't know them?"

I paused. "A taxi driver." Then, light slowly began to break over me. We were standing, in the exact same place where we first met. What was he doing? Why was he recreating our first meeting?

He clicked his tongue. "Very good." He continued walking towards Angelo's. He opened the door for me and let me in. once inside, he reached for my coat, his long fingers brushed my neck. "I could get used to removing your coat."

His tone caused me to pause, it was almost...seductive. If it was, it was totally working on me. "Sherlock, what are you up to?"

"You'll see."

Angelo bustled over. "Sherlock!" he gave Sherlock a hug and Sherlock tried not to make a face, but he didn't succeed. Angelo flashed him a huge grin. "I've got your table all ready. Just follow me."

Sherlock took my hand and I walked behind him, somewhat nervous. Then, I saw the table. It was…beautiful and tucked away in a dark corner. It was decorated intimately with candles, red roses, and few sparkles sprinkled here and there. There were two champagne goblets waiting for us. As Sherlock seated me, Angelo opened the champagne and poured it for us.

"Thank you Angelo," he said. "can we have a few minutes to order?"

"Of course." Angelo hurried off and I was left with Sherlock. I then took note of his clothes. He was in a black suit and he had a stiff, white shirt on. He wasn't wearing a tie, of course, but it was buttoned to the top and frankly it looked like it was strangling him. Sherlock reached for his menu and practically hid behind it. "Any idea of what you'd like?"

"I'd like to have an idea of what's going on." I said nervously. "One moment we're on a case with Irene Adler, then I'm down here at Angelo's and you're hiding behind your menu."

He glances from behind it. "I _am not _hiding behind my menu, I'm reading it. And, I think you have a vague idea of what I'm going to do." He glanced at his watch.

I trembled and looked at the menu. For a long time, I'm silent before asking the question that I really need to know the answer to. "Did you mean it?"

"Did I mean what?"

"That….you….love me." My heart catches in my throat as he holds my gaze. "Did you…mean that?"

Time seemed to stand still as I waited for his answer. I couldn't handle the intense gaze any longer so I looked down. Sherlock reached over and gripped my hand. "Look at me." He said gently. I trembled and looked up at him. Sincerity was written in those piercing eyes of his. "I meant it Tammy."

All the air whooshed out of me and I gripped his hand tightly. He glanced at his watch again. "Why," I asked breathlessly. "do you keep looking at that watch?"

"I was going to ask at the exact minute, but you're making this rather difficult." I bit my lip slightly and his eyes went to my mouth. "Extremely difficult." Sherlock caught my face in his hands and pulled me towards him. I trembled and shook when he stopped so that our foreheads were close enough to touch if either of us moved. "Tammy will you marry me?"

I gasped in complete shock. I was definitely not expecting those words to come out of his mouth! Why was he asking me? Tonight of all nights? I should have thought about it long and hard. But in that instance I decided to stop listening to my head and listen to my heart. And the answer that my heart shouted at me floated to my lips.

"Yes, Sherlock."

He then captured my mouth in a liplock that was so full of electricity that it could have lit up the London Eye for a month! I gasped and grabbed at his wrists as the seconds turned into minutes. My heart pounded wildly as Sherlock kissed me again. I don't remember anything much, except drowning in extreme happiness. We broke apart and I clung to him tightly as he pulled away, reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring box.

"You're shaking." He observed as he took my hand.

I nodded. "I'm trying not to cry, laugh and scream for joy at the same time."

He smirked. "You're quite emotional, but that's one of the things I like about you." He opened the box, revealing a traditional diamond engagement ring. "You're a traditionalist; I didn't think you'd like a huge diamond or anything ridiculous looking."

"I love this Sherlock." I assured him as he slid it on my finger. I looked at his face. "I love the man who's giving me the ring more than the ring."

Sherlock kissed my hand just as Angelo bustled over. "So, did she say "Yes" Sherlock?" Sherlock held up my hand, revealing my ring. Angelo clapped his hands. "Congratulations! I get to kiss the bride right?"

"Of course." I said as Angelo hugged me and kissed my cheek. "Thank you."

"You must be a very special woman if you can put up with him." He exhaled. "A life of constant craziness."

I blushed. "He's actually, very easy to put up with." Sherlock puffed up just a little bit so added. "Most of the time."

He glowers at me. "Thanks."

"Congratulations." Angelo shook his hand. "So, when's the wedding?"

Sherlock looked at me. "Most likely Valentine's Day." I stared at him. "Your parents, married on Valentine's Day. You have no living relatives, so you'd want to feel somewhat close to your parents on your wedding day. Am I right?"

I got a little misty eyed as I nodded. "Yes. Valentine's Day it will be." I decided to risk it and ask. "Angelo, would you mind if we had the reception here?"

Angelo looked as if he were going to keel over in surprise. "Of course I wouldn't mind! Everything will be on the house."

"Oh no." I shook my head. "That'll cost you too much!"

"It won't be so much." He clapped Sherlock's shoulder. "Nothing is too much for this man."

"But surely-

"No, I insist!" I stared at him as he automatically resumed control of the situation. "You come down tomorrow at 1:00 and we will discuss the cocktails, wine, appetizer, main course, and the wedding cake!" Angelo bustled away. "And we've got to hurry; Valentine's Day is only a few weeks away!"

I turned to Sherlock who was grinning at me. "How do you argue with a man like that?"

"You can't. Don't worry; we'll leave him a check anyway. Besides, I know a few people, I'll let them know and I'm sure they'll give him a hearty discount for a few things." He glanced at the menu. "So, what do want to eat?"

I exhaled and shook my head as I covered my flaming face in my hands. "I think I'll skip dinner and go straight to desert."

"Hmm, no you're not." He grabbed my hand from my face. "Now, look at the menu and pick something."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not hungry."

On cue, my stomach growled. Sherlock smirked. "I don't believe you." He turned to Billy and took the menu from my hand. "Tammy will have the buffalo chicken with a small salad and some fries," he made a face. "with extra salt. I'll have the house Special."

"Right away."

I folded my arms and tried to look cross at him. "I can order for myself."

"You were taking too long."

"Well…it did sound good. How'd you know about the extra salt?"

"It's the American in you, you always like too much salt on your fries." He reached for my hand and toyed with it. Sherlock groaned as his phone went off. He glowered at the screen. "Mycroft."

Mine phone went off as well and my blood ran cold as I looked at the number. "Moriarty."


	13. 13: Don't let tonight ever end

Chapter thirteen: Don't let tonight ever end

* * *

I looked up at Sherlock, his face was cold. I bit my lip. Sherlock then handed me his phone and took mine. "Shall we get this over with?"

I nodded and answered the phone. "Hello Mycroft."

_Tammy? I need to talk to Sherlock._

"About what?" I said. "He's talking to Moriarty at the moment, but I think I know what you're calling me about."

_Really?_

"Yes." I inhaled. "Sherlock proposed to me."

There was silence on the other end for a long time. _And what did you say?_

"I accepted him."

_Tammy, please reconsider. Be sure before you make a decision. Is life with my brother what you really want?_

"It is Mycroft. I do, I want it, more than anything I've wanted in my life." Sherlock began shouting at Moriarty and I cleared my throat. "I've got to go. What did you need to talk to him about?"

_I was going to tell him to reconsider, but now, what can one say?_

"You can wish me luck."

_Good luck Tammy and congratulations. _

I turned off the phone at the same time Sherlock drew his arm back to throw my phone at the wall. "Wait!" I shouted and he paused. "That's my phone." I handed him his phone. "Here, throw this one."

Sherlock made a face. "Yours is an old phone."

"I'll make you buy me the _exact _same replica to replace mine if you damage it and that _will _take some detective work." I laughed and wrapped my arm about him. "So, what did he tell you?"

"Oh he was spreading his typical threats of gloom and doom. Boring. So what did Mycroft want?"

"He wanted you to reconsider asking me. He was too late of course."

Sherlock picked up the champagne glass and I followed his example. "Here's to us…the future Mrs. Holmes."

I flush brightly at the way Mrs. Holmes came out of his mouth. "Here's to us….Mr. Holmes." We sipped our champagne and then I announced. "Sherlock, from here on out there will only be kissing permitted."

He stopped in mid drink and stared at me. "What do you mean?"

"No more playing around or sleeping in each other's bed."

He set the glass down. "Why on earth not?"

"I think it's proper that we…wait for such things."

"Oh for God's sake Tammy," he scooted his chair forward. "are you really serious?"

"Yes I am."

"And I cannot touch you?"

"Well you can touch my hand or arm Sherlock. Certain areas….are restricted for the time being."

"Such as?"

I shook my head. "You know _exactly _what I mean and you know that I am not going to name the places."

"Give me a hint."

"The areas that females have which the males differ." Sherlock groans and I smile. "As for kissing, only on the mouth or cheek." Sherlock leaned forward slightly, resting his chin on his propped elbow. "No neck or anywhere else."

He frowned. "If you're thinking that I'm actually going to obey these rules," I arched my brow. "I can't promise anything."

"You will. And further more," I leaned forward slightly. "on valentine's night, you're definitely going to be looking forward to a great many things."

Sherlock nodded and took my hand. "Thank you Tammy."

I frowned. "For what?"

"For waiting for me." At my frown he asked. "Do you not remember those words you spoke to Mycroft, when he was taunting your virginity a while back?"

I nod. "Yes, I remember. You…heard me?"

He nods. "You've got a very passionate voice, and even if I hadn't been listening below with the door open, I would have heard you." Sherlock leaned forward and kissed me on my forehead. "Thanks for waiting for me Tammy."

"I hope I'm worth it."

"You were worth the mystery, so don't think you're not worth it."

"Sherlock," I croak out. "if Irene was taunting you by calling you…the virgin-"

"It's true."

"Thank you Sherlock." I tremble as tears puddle in my eyes. "Thank you, for waiting for me."

"I actually wasn't interested in anything like that until I met you. Now, I'm looking forward to a lot of things with you." He leans forward and kisses me on the nose. "Incidentally, are kisses on the nose allowed?"

I laughed and squeezed his hand. The rest of the night was magical. Sherlock and I talked about some of the wedding details. John, of course would be the best man and Mrs. Hudson would be my matron of honor. I insisted on inviting Molly, Lestrade and Sherlock's family. Sherlock said that they'd probably try to take over my wedding arrangements and I'd have to not let them bully me.

We didn't want an elaborate wedding. The ceremony could actually take place in my flat, then, we'd all go down to Angelo's to have the reception. We'd both keep our flats; Sherlock would clear out his bedroom of his clothes and move into mine. That way he had more room to put his experiments and we wouldn't have to adjust our way of life. Sherlock could be messy and my flat could be clean.

Sherlock walked me up to my flat and respectfully kissed me goodnight. I had my arms around his shoulder and his were around my waist, but we both didn't want to let go of each other. "Goodnight." I whisper.

"Goodnight." Sherlock mumbles in my ear, but we both don't let go.

I laugh. "I don't want this moment to end."

"Me either." Sherlock reaches into his pocket, pulls out his phone, pushing a few buttons and then tucks it back into his pocket.

I pull away. "I really should go."

"Why?"

I shrug. "I don't know."

"Yes." Some light music fills the air, and I shake my head as Sherlock pulls me back into his arms. "But why bother?"

_We just said goodnight an hour ago, _I laugh at the sound of cliff Richard's voice coming from Sherlock's pocket. _even though I know I ought to go. Don't send me away, please just let me stay._

I shake my head. "Sorry Sherlock, you're going to have to go."

"Why?"

"It's not proper."

He rolls his eyes as he rests his chin on my shoulder. "Hmm, let's make it proper then."

_Don't let tonight ever end. Not now, I'm holding your hand. _I smile as we sway together, our knees brushing together. _Here we are alone, everyone's gone home. No one near but you to hear me say, I love you._ Sherlock places little kisses on my cheek. _ Don't let tonight ever end. Not now, we're more than just friends. Promise me you'll stay, till tonight becomes today, so we don't have to say goodnight again_

"Very tempting Sherlock," I pull away. "but, one last kiss and then goodnight."

Sherlock pouts and he kisses me once. I almost let out a groan of aggravation. Why does each kiss have to cause my head to spin and my stomach clench with desire? He pulls away, studying me carefully. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." I open my door, prepared to enter my flat when he pinched me! "Sherlock!"

"What?" he said innocently as he turned and trotted down the stairs. "Did you expect me to behave all the time?"

"Yes!"

"Wishful thinking Tammy."


	14. 14: The human heart is a fragile thing

Chapter Fourteen: The human heart is a fragile thing

* * *

My phone buzzed the following morning with a text from Sherlock. _Mrs. Hudson and John are coming up for breakfast in 5 minutes. Better get down here fast. _

I groaned and hauled myself out of bed. I washed my face and grabbed my robe and stumbled down the stairs, solemnly vowing to rip some of his hair out. But the moment I pushed the door open to his flat, Sherlock was there with a cup of cocoa extended towards me. "Good morning."

I yawned as I took it from him "Good morning." I kissed his cheek and brushed by him.

"That wasn't much of a kiss." He said as he reached for my waist, spinning me around to face him. "Considering that we did just get engaged yesterday."

I smiled. "Is that why I am so happy this morning?"

"Could be." He leaned forward. "I'm not used to waking up and feeling happy, it's a strange feeling."

I run my free hand down his jaw. "I hope you shall enjoy the feeling. We shall hopefully have many more days of feeling like this."

"It'd be nice to assume that, but I wager we're in for days that we are going to be hating each other as well."

I groan. "You always have to spoil a moment."

"Not really. Now, shut up and kiss me." I smile and lean forward in anticipation, but the moment never came. A door opened from behind us and he groaned as I pulled away from him. "That could only be John."

I laughed as Sherlock moves towards his seat with a slightly sulky expression. "He always has impeccable timing." I turned to John who looked dead tired. "Good morning John."

"Good morning Tammy," he lets out a yawn as he shoved his hands inside his robe pockets. "sorry about the interruption."

"Doesn't matter, I'm getting used to them." Sherlock plops onto the couch, sitting in what I'd dubbed his 'monkey' position. His feet on the part where one normally sat and his hands folded on his knees. "So, how were things with Jeanette?"

John frowned. "Fine. I guess."

Sherlock speaks up. "They broke up last night."

"Oh John, I'm sorry."

"I never liked her." Sherlock said.

I hit his shoulder as I move to stand by him. "Sherlock." He plopped down to the couch, sitting properly. "Be nice!"

"Fine."

"Yoo-hoo." Mrs. Hudson comes in with an orange cranberry bread loaf, fresh out of the oven. "Did everyone have a good night sleep?"

I nod as I sit on the arm of the couch. "Yes." Sherlock confiscated my cocoa, setting it to the side, and tugged me down into his lap. I laugh as he wraps his arm around my waist. "I had a wonderful night." I gazed into those eyes of his, oblivious to John and Mrs. Hudson's presence for the moment. "A wonderful night's sleep and it was full of wonderful dreams."

John frowned. "Did I miss something?"

"Yes." Sherlock bounds up off the couch, taking me up with him. "So John, Mrs. Hudson," he wraps his arms around my waist. "do the two of you have any plans for Valentine's Day?" Sherlock wasn't going to give them any time to adjust and he just let them have the news in typical Sherlock fashion. "Tammy and I are getting married and I want you, John, to be the best man and Tammy want's Mrs. Hudson to be her matron of honor. Can you two make it?"

The tea cup falls from John's hand and he stared at Sherlock. Mrs. Hudson appeared stunned as well. "What…did you just say?"

I hold up my hand, revealing my engagement ring. "We're getting married."

"And," Sherlock repeated. "I want you to be the best man. Did that come through John or shall I have to spell it out for you?"

Mrs. Hudson bustled up to me and hugged me. "Oh my dear. Congratulations." She hugged Sherlock and he didn't make a face this time. "Oh, I can't believe it."

I grinned. "Neither can John evidentially."

John cleared his throat and walked up to me. He hugged me tightly. "Congratulations Tammy." He held me for a while. "I hope you have a happy and wonderful life ahead of you."

"Thank you John."

"Will the two of you break it up?" Sherlock complained. "After all, she is my bride!"

I laughed as John walked up to Sherlock. He shook Sherlock's hand before hugging him. "You don't deserve her."

Sherlock frowned. "Why?"

"Because you're an idiot." I watched the two of them. I knew each other well enough to know that John wanted to say many things to Sherlock, but couldn't exactly find them at this moment. "But then, I don't know a better man for her. Take care of her and be kind to her."

Sherlock frowned. "When have I ever been anything else but that?"

I laughed and John rolled his eyes. "Shall I mention fifty-seven incidents?"

"Don't bother." Sherlock said as he draped his arm possessively around my neck. "Tammy and I sorted everything out didn't we?"

"Indeed. I know exactly where I stand," I swatted his rear and Sherlock jumped in surprise. "and now I want some breakfast."

"Did you just-

"You know I did Sherlock," I said as I walked towards the kitchen. "and don't even think about attempting to repay me in the same favor or I'll invite Anderson."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Don't tempt me, I wouldn't, but I might do it just to teach you a lesson."

* * *

After breakfast, I went down to the New Scotland Yard to see Lestrade. I wanted a traditional wedding and I needed someone to walk me down the aisle. Lestrade was a fine man and I couldn't think of anyone else who could walk me down the aisle. At times, his manner of speech reminded me of my father and I knew had the two of them would have been good friends.

Sally ushered me into his office, she was curious about my business but I didn't indulge her. Fortunately, she wasn't observant and failed to notice my rings on my hand.

"Tammy Taylor is here to see you," she said. "on secret business."

Lestrade was engrossed in his work but he stopped when he saw me. "Tammy." He stood up. "What a surprise."

"Hello Greg."

"What are you doing here?"

"I have a favor to ask of you."

"What is it?" he asked.

I glanced behind me to see that Sally had left the room and I smiled. "Well it's going to be a surprise."

"And does it happen to involve Sherlock?" he asked. "I bet it does."

"And you'd be right."

"Is it his birthday?"

"No," I make a mental note. "I actually don't know when his birthday is. But that isn't what I've come about." I bite my lip and blurt out. "Sherlock asked me to marry him."

"He what?" His mouth dropped open in shock.

"Freak did what?" I spun around to glare at Sally who'd snuck in quietly behind me with some paperwork. "I mean, Sherlock did what?"

I turned back to Lestrade who was staring at me, mouth still open. I held out my hand, showing him my ring. "He proposed yesterday, and…I accepted him."

"Oh my word." Lestrade hugged me. "Congratulations Tammy."

"May I extend my congratulations and condolences?" Sally asked.

"Get out Sally." Lestrade snapped. "This is a big moment for every girl and you're spoiling it. And don't you go telling Andersen or anybody else! Is that clear?"

"Yes." She muttered as she slammed the door.

"Thank you." I said in relief. "They'll find out sooner or later though. Sherlock would definitely prefer never."

He shook his head. "I don't know how you were able to capture his attention, much less his heart, but if you're happy, that's all that matters."

"I am happy." I cleared my throat. "I wanted to ask….uhm…this may be a bit awkward."

"Take your time." He said as he offered me a chair and took the next seat next to me. "This is quite a big day. I'm having a bit of trouble taking it all in myself."

"Well, both my parents are dead." I looked at him, he nodded sympathetically. "And…I have no other living relatives. So, would you….walk me down the aisle? Please?" Lestrade was stunned for a second and I began explaining. "I would have asked John, but Sherlock wants him to be his best man. Mrs. Hudson, she's to be the matron of honor. Molly Hooper is going to be my only bridesmaid. Outside of Sherlock's immediate family, I don't know many people in London. And you're a good man and I know my father would approve of you taking his place. I don't know Mr. Holmes well enough to ask him, in fact, I've only met him once."

Lestrade squeezed my hand. "Of course, I'd be honored to walk you down the aisle."

"Thank you."

"So when is the wedding?"

"Valentine's Day."

His brow rose. "Who's in a hurry, you or him?"

"It was actually Sherlock's suggestion, but he chose that day because he knew that my parents were married on Valentine's Day. He knew I'd want to keep them close in my heart." I rubbed my hands. "I know he's unusual at times, but I love him, even when I'm mad at him. He loves me too; he just doesn't say it."

"I trust that he had to decency to say that he loved you when he proposed?"

I shook my head. "He didn't really. He actually only told me that he loved me once and that was before he proposed."

Lestrade laughed. "That's Sherlock for you. I hope for his sake, that'll he'll say it to you more often. 'I love you' is a small phrase, three words, eight letters, yet they're the words that mean the most to us." His tone told me that he spoke from experience. "The human heart is a fragile thing and the heart needs to be told that they're loved as often as much possible."

I nodded. "Sherlock waited to tell me when I needed to hear it most of all. I'm hoping that maybe he'll say it to me more often now." My phone went off and I apologized. "I'm sorry." I glanced at the screen. "It's from him."

_Tammy, bother Lestrade later. I don't want Andersen or Sally finding out that we're getting married._

"He's complaining." I texted back. _Sally already knows, she walked in when I was talking to Greg._

His reply was almost immediate. _Who is Greg_?

I groaned. "He's such an idiot."

"What'd he do now?" I handed him my phone and showed him the text. Lestrade glowered at him. "After all these years and he still doesn't know my first name."

"I'll inform him of your identity in time. Like…tomorrow."

"He won't like that."

"I know, and that's exactly why I'm going to tell him tomorrow." My phone went off again and I glowered at him. _Who is Greg?_

I texted back. _Wouldn't you like to know! You're the detective, start deducing!_


	15. 15: Valentine's Day

Chapter fifteen: Valentine's Day

* * *

"Oh Tammy," Mrs. Hudson said as I smoothed my wedding dress. She sniffled as she surveyed me. "You look so beautiful."

"Thank you Mrs. Hudson."

I chose the dress, 'MacClare' from David Tutera's 2014 Spring Collection. I referred to it as his 'Downton Abbey' collection because each dress was named after a character in Downton abbey. It was a strapless, lacy, mermaid wedding dress with a scalloped sweetheart neckline. It came with a hand-beaded jeweled belt. The scalloped hemline spilled into a chapel length train. It came with detachable spaghetti and halter straps, which I decided that I wouldn't use.

Planning my wedding was a lot simpler than most weddings. I decorated my flat the way it should be. Excess furniture was moved to into storage for a few days so we could hold the ceremony in front of the decorated mantelpiece. Angelo went all out on the menu. He talked me out of doing a wedding cake and went along with a totally different, unique dessert that Sherlock and I both loved.

Sherlock had put up such a complaint about wearing a tuxedo that I decided not to even ask him to dance with me on our wedding day. John, however, said that Sherlock would be wearing suitable wedding attire even if he had to hold a gun to Sherlock's head. And true to his word, John came back with Sherlock in tow and a suit ready for Sherlock to wear. Poor John had gone into his room to take a nap after fighting with Sherlock over the various suits all afternoon. Not to mention he deduced everything about the tailors and put the whole store in an uproar!

Molly stood beside me, wearing a floor length red dress that would definitely have every man, except Sherlock, staring at her in surprise. "John says that he hired someone to film the ceremony and the reception afterwards. That's his present to you."

I gasped. "Oh, I shall have to kiss him for that. How wonderful of him." Someone tapped on the door. "Who is it?"

"It's me." Greg said. "Sherlock is getting antsy. He says you're five minutes late."

"Who appointed him official time keeper, I wonder?" I laughed. "I'm ready Greg. Come on in."

He pushed the door open and stared at me. "Wow." I smiled at his gaze. It was a gaze that a father would give his daughter. "You look beautiful Tammy."

"Thank you."

He kissed my forehead and stared at me. "I never said thank you, for asking me to walk you down the aisle. I never had a daughter that I could walk down the aisle."

Tears filled my eyes. "I don't have a father to walk me down the aisle, I'm certain he'd be pleased with my choice."

"Hey," he wiped my eyes. "can't have you crying on today of all days."

I nodded and squared my shoulders. "I'm ready." I reached for my bouquet of pink and blue roses. I had my mother's pearl necklace for something old; my dress was something new. Mrs. Hudson had lent me her shoes that she wore at her wedding and they fit me perfectly and my roses were something blue.

He took my arm. "Shall we?"

I nodded and we walked up the stairs. I could just imagine Sherlock complaining to John that i was walking way too slow. Then, I stood outside the door. Mrs. Hudson entered first, then Molly and I heard Sherlock. "I bet you anything John she is taking her sweet time on purpose."

Mycroft snapped. "Oh shut up Sherlock."

Mrs. Holmes pounced on him immediately. "Shut up Mycroft! Don't ruin your brother's wedding!"

I entered the room and I watched as Sherlock's eyes lit up and for the first time, I saw unrestrained love in his eyes as he took in the sight of me. I blushed and gripped Lestrade's arm tighter to keep from running up to Sherlock and jumping into his arms that instance.

Lestrade muttered just so I could hear. "Well, glad to see he's anxious to see you."

I merely smiled, I'm afraid I was doing a bit of ogling myself. John had gotten Sherlock into a tuxedo, with a tie, and a freshly laundered handkerchief and he even got Sherlock to wear the boutonniere that matched my bouquet.

Lestrade kissed my cheek before letting Sherlock take my hand and pull me towards him. "You look," Sherlock murmured. "beautiful."

I blushed under his gaze. "Thank you."

Then the minister began reading the familiar words that began the marriage ceremony to us. "Marriage is an honorable estate. It is not to be entered into lightly or unadvisedly, but discreetly and soberly. Into this relationship these two persons come now to be joined. I ask you both that if you know any reason why you should not be joined in marriage, you make it known at this time."

I must admit, I was expecting Moriarty to jump out from somewhere with a complaint, but he didn't. I relaxed and Sherlock squeezed my hand reassuringly. I glanced down at where he had his hands and sure enough, he was taking my pulse again. I shook my head at him in dismay and he simply smirked at me.

"Happiness in marriage is not something that just happens. A good marriage must be created. In the 'Art of Marriage', the little things are the big things. It is never being too old to hold hands. It is remembering to say 'I love you' at least once a day." Sherlock rolled his eyes, feeling John give him a pointed look at his back. I fought back a laugh. "It is never going to sleep angry; it is at no time taking the other for granted. The courtship should not end with the honeymoon, it should continue through all the years."

The minister studied us for a moment before continuing. "It is having a mutual sense of values and common objectives. It is standing together facing the world. It is doing things for each other, not in the attitude of duty or sacrifice, but in the spirit of joy. It is speaking words of appreciation and demonstrating gratitude in thoughtful ways." Sherlock nodded and I frowned at that. "It is not expecting the husband to wear a halo or the wife to have wings of an angel. It is not looking for perfection in each other." I nodded as well. Sherlock didn't expect me to be perfect and I loved his imperfections. "It is cultivating flexibility, patience, understanding and a sense of humor. It is having the capacity to forgive and forget. It is giving each other an atmosphere in which each can grow. It is a search for the good and beautiful. It is establishing a relationship in which the independence is equal, dependence is mutual and the obligation is reciprocal. It is not only marrying the right partner; it is being the right partner. You may now speak your vows."

I inhaled and waited for Sherlock to speak. He bit his lip and looked down at my hands, which he held for a moment. This was the part that Sherlock had been dreading, showing his emotions to everyone in the room. We'd both decided to select different wedding vows that spoke for what our hearts wanted to say, but our tongue failed to let free.

I squeezed his hand and he looked at me. "It's just the two of us." I said quietly. "Say them to me."

My words were the encouragement he needed; he stepped closer towards me. "I used to be afraid of falling in love, of giving my heart away. How could I trust a woman to love me, to give to me all that I wanted to give to her? Tammy," that voice, those eyes, the blaze I felt inside me was so much that it stopped the heart beating within my breast. "when I met you, I realized how much we could share together." I stared at him in amazement and he nodded. "And that would be right from the moment you said that you were pleased to meet me, and you so obviously weren't." I ducked my head as everyone laughed. "You have renewed my life and I love you. Today, I join that life with yours."

Sherlock reached out and wiped my eye, I hadn't realized I was crying. "Sorry." I cleared my throat and gripped his hand. "As freely, Sherlock," my voice broke and I had to clear my throat again. This time, the words came out clearly. "as God has given me life, I join my life with yours. Wherever you go, I will go, whatever you face, I will face. For good or ill, in happiness or sadness, come riches or poverty," I couldn't resist personalizing the vow like he had. "in safety…and in danger." Sherlock laughed and my heart soared up above the Heavens. "I take you as my husband, and will give myself to no other."

He grinned. "I'm holding you to that."

"I insist."

I was certain that Sherlock would have kissed me that instance but the minister's voice stopped him short. "You may now place the ring on her finger."

John placed a gold wedding band in Sherlock's hand and he slid the ring on my finger. I smiled; it was simple, with an interlacing heart pattern going around it. He whispered. "If you'd prefer a diamond, I could,"

"No." I said firmly. "It's a beautiful ring Sherlock. I love it."

"You are mature people who have established individual patterns of living." The minister continued and I feared he would never finish up. Sherlock was getting impatient as well, rocking on his heels. "Yet, you have found not only a need for companionship, but also the satisfaction of that need in each other's company. Inasmuch as you two have come before your friends and family and have declared your love and devotion to each other, I now greet you with them as husband and wife." He glanced at Sherlock. "And now, you may kiss your bride."

Sherlock moved in slowly, making everyone, including me wait for the kiss. He stroked my chin with the back of his hand before cupping my face in his hands. He leaned forward slowly, relishing my pulse throbbing under his touch. I let out a stifled gasp as he tilted my face up towards his. He studied me for a moment before he stepped closer to me. I closed my eyes as his fingers continued stroking my chin, waiting for that kiss.

And that's when I tasted his lips for the first time as his wife. The kiss was as pure and beautiful as sunlight streaming into a dark, wood forest. I felt him pause momentarily, as if he too were by surprise of the feel of my mouth on his. This first kiss was like a magic whisper and he was kind enough to provide me with another taste. The second kiss was breath mingling with skin, very potent. The third kiss, he applied a more pressure to my lips. This time, I did let out a moan as his hands slipped down my shoulders, around my waist as he pressed me tightly to his chest. My arms crept up around his shoulders and I held onto him tightly. For a moment, I couldn't hear anything except for the pounding of my heart.

Sherlock pulled away and murmured in my ear. "Hello, Mrs. Holmes."

"Hello Mr. Holmes."

Sherlock hugged me and John let out a loud cheer as I clung to my husband. Mrs. Hudson and Mrs. Holmes were crying happily. Molly was clapping joyfully while Mycroft and Mr. Holmes were clapping solemnly. Then, we were bombarded by hugs and congratulations by everyone. Sherlock took it pretty well, but he was more focused on me.

After ten minutes he grew impatient with everybody's praise. "All right everyone; it's time to walk down to Angelo's. I know Tammy's hungry, because I know that she didn't eat anything this morning."

I elbowed him. "Of course I didn't eat anything this morning! What bride does?" Everyone laughed and I glanced around. "I need to get my coat first."

"I'll come with you." Sherlock reaches for my arm, interlacing it with his. "John, can you make sure everyone gets down there?"

"Sure thing."

Sherlock followed me down the stairs and I whispered. "You're being obvious Sherlock."

"Naturally." The moment we entered the room, he slammed the door behind me and I jumped. He pinned me against it. "Now, I think we have five minutes before anyone gets suspicious." His voice was low in pitch and his hand gripped my hip firmly. "I said once you looked like a goddess in black, but you're definitely an angel in white."

I let out a quiet cry. "Sherlock, we do have a wedding reception to go to."

Words died as he kissed the pulse point on my neck. "Yes," he said. "and we've got maintain a polite atmosphere for almost six hours." I whimpered as my legs threatened to buckle on me. His hand slowly crept up my side. I twitched and then jumped forward as he touched my breast. "Easy." His voice was a hoarse whisper, causing my stomach to clench in what I assumed was desire. "You have to get used to my touch."

"Sherlock." I groaned as the temperature in room skyrocketed. "The reception." I then let out a yelp as he squeezed my breast in his hand. "Sherlock!"

He studied my face. "You like that, don't you?" I inhale deeply and nod. "Let's see what else you like."

"Sherlock." I protest weakly as his hand begins wandering.

"Feel free to touch me."

I flush as I look at him, unsure of where to begin. I reach out and stroke his chin. "I'd settle for...another kiss first."

Sherlock nods as he leans in, capturing my mouth in a deep lip lock. I moan as he holds me so close to him. Unconsciously, I move my hips against him, only to have my face blaze red as I feel his desire against me.

I pull away, breathing heavily. "Ok...we need to break this up."

But Sherlock isn't listening to me; he's concentrating on something else. I brush my hair back from my face and straighten my veil; my heart is pounding crazily in my chest.

"Someone's coming." He stated, something in his tone caused me to pause. "Someone uninvited."

I froze. "Who?" Sherlock whipped the door open to reveal…my brother on the other side of the door. I gasped and clutched at my pearl necklace. "You! What are you doing here?"

"Well," he said drolly. "I am your brother after all."

"Not, anymore."

He shrugs and looks at me. "I see I was interrupting something." I flush as he looks towards Sherlock. "Can't wait until tonight? Guess I can't call you 'the virgin' anymore."

"Shut up!" I grip Sherlock's hand tightly. "Why do you always have to spoil everything?" I felt tears starting. "Can't I even enjoy my wedding day in peace?"

"Sorry, but I only came here to give you this." He handed me a small box. "Open it."

I frowned and opened it. I then stopped short as I saw my mother's wedding ring inside. I touched it with a shaking hand. "Mother's…wedding ring?"

"I did find her body." He said. "Took a while, but I had the right contacts. People will do anything for money."

I bit my lip as more unwanted tears filled my eyes. "Thank you."

He nodded and turned to walk away, but something stopped and he turned around to face me. "I suppose it would be asking too much if I asked to kiss the bride?"

I hesitated for a moment, but I nodded. "Go ahead."

He kissed my cheek and I shuddered slightly. Then, I felt Sherlock's hand on my waist giving me strength. "Be happy," he shot Sherlock a pointed look. "for however long you two have together."

"I'm betting on the next fifty years." Sherlock said cheekily as he nudged me towards the door. "Can't say the same about you though." With that, he guided me down the stairs, out the down and he assumed a brisk pace down the street with me beside him. "You ok?"

I nodded. "Oddly enough, I feel nothing except pity for him. He's been gone so long now, that he's like a stranger to me. You didn't lock the door!"

"Tammy, you couldn't lock me out of a room if you tried, what's the sense of locking him out of the room? And," he wiggled his eyebrows. "I promise I shall make you forget everything about him by tonight."

"Sherlock." I blushed red at the suggestive tone in his voice. "You shouldn't talk so." He squeezed my hip and I yelped. "We are in public."

He laughed. "So what? You started this game earlier, remember? From here on out, it's all hands on. And if I want to kiss you in public I will do so because you are my wife, I'm your husband and it is my right as it is yours. Furthermore, you are going to regret making me wait."

My stomach bounced around inside me. "Why am I worried that I am going to regret those propositions?"

"You will. I intend...to make you suffer for this. It'll be a pleasure, an ultimate pleasure, making you suffer."


	16. 16: The reception

Chapter Sixteen: The reception

* * *

The reception was…beautiful. Angelo had outdone himself. The room was filled with turquoise, white and pink Christmas lights. The tables had centerpieces with real roses that were sprayed with glitter on the petals. There was a dance floor open for us and I insisted on the kitchen staff joining in the festivities once dinner was served that way the gathering was a little merrier since we didn't have many guests. Sherlock and I both shared one plate together. He never ate much and I could never eat when I was overly happy and nervous.

Everything was delicious. Angelo had the best breadsticks in the world. Smothered in cheese and just the perfect blend of spices, with a side of warmed pizza sauce. Then, Italian salad with a delightfully tangy dressing. The main dish was creamy chicken served over tomato sauce and penne pasta. The Italian chocolate love cake…oh, it was simply heavenly. It was a combination of a marble cake and cheesecake with a creamy chocolate topping. I couldn't refrain from moaning in delight the moment it passed my lips.

Sherlock observed my reaction instantly. "You like that don't you?"

I nodded. "Oh, it tastes like heaven." He took my hand and stuck my finger in the topping. I frowned. "Why did you," then, he put my finger in his mouth, slowly sucking the frosting off my finger. My face went red and I couldn't look away. "Sherlock." He ignored me and concentrated on the task at hand. I bit my lip and hissed as he swirled his tongue around my finger. "People are watching."

He rolled his eyes and let me pull my finger from his mouth. "Let them look, after all, you only get married once." He then pulled his tie off and put it on the back of his chair. "I hate these." He studied me. "Wise choice on the dessert," he dips his finger in the frosting and smears it on my lips. My eyes widen. "You can guess what I'm going to do now."

"Sherlock!" My heart jumps in my throat as Sherlock moves forward to kiss all the frosting off my lips. Fortunately, John stands up to make his speech. I exhale in relief. "Thank God."

"He has the worst timing." Sherlock groans as he sits back in his seat. "Oh no." I hastily lick the frosting off my lips. He frowns at me. "I thought _I _was supposed to do that."

I elbow him. "Shut up."

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen." John said courteously. "For those of you that don't know me, my name's John Watson, and I've the privilege of being Sherlock's best man. I hope you've all enjoyed everything so for, and I think you'll all agree that the bride looks…. Absolutely stunning!" He muttered under his breath in typical John fashion. "The groom looked absolutely stunned." I laughed loudly. "Now this is only going to be a short speech because of my throat. If I go on too long Sherlock's threatened to cut it!"

"No I didn't." He muttered indignantly "He's exaggerating again."

"You know, it's been said that being asked to be best man is a great honor that no one really wants to do." John leaned forward slightly. "That's a lie. This is the bit I've REALLY been looking forward to!"

"Oh God." Sherlock groaned. I rubbed his shoulder in false sympathy.

Well, what can I tell you about the groom? I've known him for about 2 years; he's Handsome, intelligent, witty." Sherlock sits up, beginning to beam at John's words. "Charismatic, kind. Oh, I'm so sorry, wrong wedding." I shrieked and almost jumped up and kissed John for that line. "I've always admired him, mostly because I never had the courage to be a liar, a thief and a cheat."

I started laughing loudly and Sherlock handed me my inhaler so I wouldn't start coughing. "Thank you."

"Mark Twain once said, "A man is already halfway in love with any woman who listens to him". I can know for a fact that this is true. Sherlock was talking out loud the night he met Tammy, I was filling in for his skull. I'm not kidding; Sherlock will do the entire Hamlet and skull routine down the street if it'll help him solve a case. Tammy was already listening to him before she even knew his name! Tammy, unlike most people after Sherlock's deductions, didn't curse him out. She asked him to identify what color underwear she was wearing since he was such a show off." I blushed and buried my face in my hands. It was true that the past could come back to haunt us. "I don't know how that bit worked out."

"Pink." Sherlock said to John. "She flashed me when we were chasing down the taxi driver."

John's face turns slightly red. "Right. That's something we...really needed to know."

"Oh come on John, you wrote up the case. 'A study in pink' is it really any surprise that her underwear was pink?"

Everyone laughed as did I. John shook his head in amusement. "Point taken. I tell you, it's a wonder that these two are getting married today. These two battled so much when they first met that they made Punch and Judy look like a happily married couple! In all seriousness though Sherlock, you've been a brilliant friend to me," John's voice cracked slightly and I felt tears fill my eyes. "and it's been an honor to be your best man today, and with all my heart I hope you two have a long and happy marriage. You're a lucky man Sherlock and I hope you realize that. Tammy's a beautiful girl with a heart of gold, and she deserves a good husband. Thank God you married her before she found one!" I squeezed Sherlock's hand. "Now, I ask that everyone raise your glasses and join me in a toast to Sherlock and Tammy, because I think they were made for each other. May your love be modern enough to survive the times, but old fashioned enough to last forever. I'm sure you're going to be happy together, and I speak for everybody here when I say I wish you both the very best for your future life together. Ladies and Gentlemen, the new Mr. and Mrs. Holmes, Sherlock and Tammy!"

Everyone applauded before drinking their toast. John held up his hands, asking for silence. "Now, Sherlock won't dance," everyone groaned in disappointment. "and we weren't actually surprised about that. Tammy is willing to make compromises. She pointed out one thing they have in common is their love of music. Sherlock plays the violin while Tammy sings and plays piano. She's always singing around the flat and I can't think of a single time that I've heard Sherlock tell her to shut up. So, he really loves to hear her sing, even though he'll never admit it. They will each now perform a song that describes the connection they feel towards each other."

Sherlock got up and walked over to Angelo, who handed Sherlock his violin. Everyone applauded as he politely bowed. He made eye contact with me. "Tammy come here."

He said it in his normal, brusque way, but I knew that meant he was going to do something that was going to make him uncomfortable. "Nice way to talk to your wife, Sherlock." John suggested. "You might want to work on that."

Sherlock shot John a glare. "She doesn't mind. In fact, she rather likes it."

I got up from my seat and walked up to Sherlock. "As much as I hate to admit it, yes."

I stopped walking once I took my place beside him. "You're just going to stand there."

I frowned as he began playing a beautiful melody. It sounded familiar to me, but I couldn't recognize it. Then, Sherlock began playing the chorus and I recognized it. It was 'In her eyes' and I recognized it because I heard Josh Groban sing it numerous times.

The lyrics began to shape themselves in my mind. I could hear Josh Groban in my head, but Sherlock had personalized the meaning to my heart. I covered my mouth to keep from crying out in music built and swelled beautifully. Sherlock was squeezing out notes I'd never heard before. They were the right notes, but they were so, passionately beautiful that I didn't recognize them. I walked behind Sherlock as he played and just wrapped my arms around his waist in a hug. I rested my head against his shoulder as the music paused momentarily before finishing the last bars of music.

All too soon, Sherlock lowered his bow and turned so I had my face on his chest. I barely heard the applause, for the moment, it was just the two of us in a bubble together. "Thank you Sherlock. That was…beautiful."

"Pleasure." He murmured. "Your turn."

"All right." I pulled free of his grasp, walked to the D.J and got my microphone. Sherlock frowned as the music filtered through the speakers. "Now, Sherlock's never heard this song before because I recently discovered it. But it truly, honestly works for us." I walked up towards him and took his hand.

_You're a mess; you never make the bed. _I saw John nod in confirmation and almost busted out laughing. _You don't read, you'd rather sit in silence all day instead. _Sherlock frowned and crossed his arms. _You eat beef jerky, think crap telly is fun._

"No I don't!" He defended himself.

_Wait,_ I said placing a finger on his lips._ I've just begun. _He glowered at me as everyone laughed at the perfect timing. I had chosen this song for the lyrics, but when they didn't work for me I personalized a few of them. But the songwriter had written the most perfectly timed lyrics. _I'm afraid you're anything but neat. Your whole life is thrown about for all to see. You own a chainsaw, your clothes, the same dark purple swatch. Goodness, what a catch. _The look on Sherlock's face told me that these lyrics better change to a more complimentary phrase.

_My friends all think I'm crazy, they all tell me you're no good. _I stepped forward, running my hand down his chest. B_ut I'll be damned if you don't make me the way I didn't know I could. _His brows rose in amusement at my swearing._ "It's your grin, the devil in your eye. How you're strong one minute, the next soft and shy. Your little dimple, _I ran my finger around his mouth._ those great big clumsy feet. God, you're just so sweet. _

I moved towards the small step ladder that I'd requested in the middle of the floor during this number. _Logic says to run now, play it smart don't be misled. But for once I'm following my heart and not my head! So here goes, maybe I'm a chump. I'll just close my eyes and count to ten and jump! _I stood up and shot Sherlock a pointed look, which he understood. He began to advance towards me. _And pray you'll catch me, cause I've been dropped before. _And it's true. Robert had dropped me, but Sherlock had caught me and picked me up._ But I've learned that love's a gamble, there's a chance that I may fall. And although it's scary, I'm gonna risk it all. It's one big crapshoot, no signs to lead the way. I'll take it day to day._

I jumped and everyone gasped as Sherlock did catch me. He didn't let me go; he kept me in his arms. The heat in his eyes caused me to blush and I could barely hold his gaze. _So you're a mess, I guess that's pretty clear._ I looked into his eyes and confessed._ But my life, would really suck if you weren't here. So, call me crazy but what else can I do? I'm in love with self-addicted, always dressed up, danger addicted, sorta messed up, perfect you._

Applause filled the room as I buried my face against Sherlock's chest. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and hugged me. I felt his hand pause as his hand made contact with the zipper on the back of my dress and I shivered.

At that moment, Mycroft cleared his throat and stood up. "As much as I hate to break this up, but it is getting late and the happy couple have a small flight to make."

"What flight?" Sherlock asked without breaking eye contact with me. "We're not going anywhere."

"Your honeymoon, will take place in a large private house that I own, it's about 40 minutes away, by helicopter." Slowly, his words penetrated our heads and we turned towards him. "You will find it complete with furnishings and appliances; it'll be all yours for two weeks."

I stared at Mycroft and Sherlock's parents in amazement. "Wow. That's quite…a honeymoon."

Sherlock wasn't happy about it though. "We weren't planning on leaving London."

"That's why we found a place within 40 minutes if you're needed." Mycroft pointed out. "The grounds include a garden, tennis court, magnificent library, horse stables, indoor pool, and a heated Jacuzzi, so you won't get bored on your honeymoon." He shot us a pointed look. "I think that you'll both love the Jacuzzi, it's connected to the master bedroom."

"Speaking for Sherlock, literally," I shot him a pointed look. "thank you. And I thank you, that's a generous gift Mycroft and it's most convenient." Sherlock pinched me and I yelped. "Sherlock!"

He kept an innocent look. "Did I step on your dress?"

"Yes. Don't do it again." I turned back to Mycroft. "Thank you; we shall accept your kind offer."

Almost an hour later, Sherlock and I were in a helicopter headed to the estate. Sherlock breathed in my ear. "Forty minute wait or not, I will have you Tammy. Sooner or later. You will be mine." I nodded and with each passing second my heart beat faster and I feared I'd roused the need in Sherlock by putting him off for so long.


	17. 17: The wedding night

Chapter seventeen: The wedding night

* * *

"Wow."

Was the only word I could form once I saw the estate that Mycroft had lent to us for two weeks. But I guessed we'd only spend a week here, Sherlock would have to get back to London. Still a week was better than none; the original plan was for Sherlock to spend as much time as possible with me in my flat, alone. The only other people here were the kitchen staff, a butler and a few maids.

Now there were a ton of recreational facilities for us. There was a fruit orchard, an indoor and outdoor swimming pool and a tennis court. The library was impressive as Mycroft had promised and there was an art gallery of beautiful paintings. The Jacuzzi, true to Mycroft's promise was….spectacular. It was large enough for two people and it was right off the master bedroom. It had a room to itself. I really loved the rocks, the colored tile and the fake fish all around the room. It was as if the beauty of the ocean had been trapped in one room.

Sherlock leaned against the doorway, watching me, as I stood in the middle of the room, surveying it. "Beautiful." But his tone hinted that he wasn't talking about the room. "We shall have to try it out tomorrow morning."

I blushed and avoided his gaze and his comment. I moved towards him. "I need to find the nearest restroom and take my makeup off."

Sherlock's arm shot up, stopping me from leaving the room. I paused and looked up at him. Sherlock grabbed me and kissed me deeply. I was taken by surprise, as the kiss was so random and short, yet passionate. "Ten minutes Tammy." How could his voice sound deep and hoarse all at the same time? "That's all you get."

I hesitated as he stepped aside to let me pass him. I then walked towards our bedroom. It was a beautiful room, done in shades of deep, velvet green and creamy satin. I went towards my bags and opened it. I grabbed my face wipes and a silk nightdress I'd purchased.

Sherlock's hand closed over mine from nowhere and I stopped in place. He brushed my hair back from my shoulders and undid the clasp on my mother's necklace for me. "Don't put that on." He murmured as he pressed the necklace in my shaking hand. "I want the pleasure of helping you out of that dress myself."

"Ok." My voice came out sounding like a faint squeak.

I don't know how I made it to that bathroom without fainting. But I did. I washed my face, careful to remove all of my makeup. Then, my body began to become painfully aware of the stressful day I had endured. And now, the highly, anticipated night was about to begin for me. From the day I was sixteen, I'd been longing for this moment. Now, I'm married, the moment has arrived, and I am scared to death. I wasn't completely stupid, I had an idea about how all this worked but...I was still somewhat nervous.

I heard music begin playing outside in the master bedroom, relaxing piano music. I smiled; it was kind of Sherlock to put that on I could relax somewhat. I sprayed myself lightly with a new scent I'd purchased for my wedding. It wasn't Elizabeth Taylor, it was actually called 'Phantom of the opera' and it was an unusual scent. Traditional, yet modern, musky and sexy, perfect for day and night use. I nervously smoothed my wedding dress and walked outside to meet the inevitable.

I paused in the doorway when I saw Sherlock sitting on the end of the bed. He'd removed all of his clothes except his pants. He'd taken off the belt, so his pants hung very low on his waist. My heart stopped and for some reason I couldn't seem to move for a moment.

"You're standing funny." His words were conversational, but his face and body language were anything else but that. Sherlock was staring at me with burning eyes, making me feel as if he was brazenly undressing me in his mind. "Come here." I nodded and walked over to him. I stopped in front of him. "Kick your shoes off, you've been wearing them all day and frankly it's no wonder your back is killing you." I turned, bent and pulled off my shoes as I straightened; Sherlock turned my back to him. Now, at this moment I couldn't decide which unnerved me more, seeing him or not seeing him. Sherlock brushed my hair back from my shoulders and whispered gently. "We are married now."

"I know." I could feel Sherlock's breath on my bare shoulders as he reached out and massaged them. I couldn't refrain from keeping a moan of pleasure from leaving my mouth as the stiffness left them. "I like that."

Sherlock chuckled quietly, but didn't say anything. Then, he slowly kissed the back of my neck as he ran his hands down my arms. The whole time, his warm breath kept teasing my shoulder. My head lolled back, allowing him to press his face against my neck. I faintly registered his hands on my waist, until I felt his thumbs press right where my hips start to curve. My body moved forward but Sherlock held me in place.

Then, his hands went to the zipper on my dress. Sherlock moved slowly and pulled it all the way down. I'd decided not to wear a bra with this dress, because it was padded enough, now I was regretting that decision. I grabbed the front of my dress, holding it in place as the material collapsed around behind me, exposing the curve of my hips.

I felt his lips on the middle of my back before he brought the knuckles of both his hands up and down my back a few times. I trembled at his touch, tonight; it was the most gentle and erotic thing I'd ever felt in my life. Then, I felt his thumbs at my lower back, massaging me firmly. He seemed to know that massaging me always completely relaxed me. He took his time, making his way up to my shoulder blades.

Sherlock eased his hands, under my arms and over my breasts. I let out a strangled cry as he touched me there. My hands were still holding my top in place as he massaged my breasts. He began placing open-mouthed kisses on my shoulder blades and I gripped his hands through the material, tightening his grip on my breasts. Heat clenched my stomach and I felt my virgin resistance melt away and the desire to become his wife consumed me, body and soul. Sherlock continued trailing a path of open-mouthed kisses up my shoulder blade towards my neck.

"Sherlock." I pleaded quietly. "Please."

He didn't say anything, just moved his kisses from the side of my neck to the front of my throat. I turned my head to the side, mouth opened slightly so he could kiss me. He kissed me and a cold rush shot down my body as he ran his tongue over my lips. My right hand let go of my top and I caressed his face. I had to touch him; I needed to touch him. The moment I let my other hand drop, Sherlock made his move. He turned me in his arms, pressing my chest against his. I brought my right arm up and over his head to grip his shoulders. His arms circled my shoulders and hips, dipping me backwards before lifting me up onto the bed.

When I didn't feel his weight on me, I opened my eyes up to find him slowly pulling off his pants. I flushed red and looked upwards. "You can look at me Tammy." He said as he tosses his pants to the side before hovering over me. "After all...I am about to make you my wife."

I groan. "Doesn't _anything _embarrass you?"

"No." His gaze went downwards. "Lift your hips."

I lifted my hips and he carefully pulls my dress off me. He thankfully, doesn't throw it on the ground, but he replocates it to the nearest chair . I inhale as he leans over me, studying me carefully. My face is a brilliant red and my chest is heaving. He leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips, before reaching for my lacy, white underwear.

He studies me carefully, before removing my underwear. I am completely exposed to his gaze and I'm frightened a little, I feel very awkward and embarrassed. "I-I have, no...idea what I'm-

"You're doing fine." He exhales deeply, memorizing every inch of me as he runs his hands up and down my legs. "I know it feels awkward for you, but you look very beautiful at this moment. Believe me; I never thought I could desire anyone…and I desire you very much."

My heart is pounding out of control now. "Sherlock, I-I," at that moment, he places his hand between my legs. "oh God! Sherlock!" He inserts a finger inside me and my back arches off the bed. "Sherlock!"

I let out a cry as he adds a second finger thrusting deep inside me, mimicking the movements of making love. A thin sheet of sweat begins to coat my body as he moves his fingers deeper and harder inside of me. Pleasure and pressure builds up inside me and I grab onto his shoulders as he speeds up his movements. I bite my lip, desperate to keep the cries back, but I can't. My cry echoed in the room as I lost control over my body. I clench around his fingers tightly as I was hit by a tidal wave of pleasure.

Sherlock nods as I gasp for air. "You're ready now." Only he could treat this whole thing as if it were an experiment. "You feel good." His words alone are almost enough to cause me to lose control over my body again. "Hot, wet, pulsating…I can barely wait to be inside you." I can't seem to move, I was so drunk with pleasure that I couldn't really focus on his words. Sherlock removes his fingers from inside me; he then sits up and removes his boxers. I cannot contain my whimpers as he nudges my legs apart. I'd never seen a naked man before, aside from art, and I always averted my gaze. I blush as Sherlock lowers himself onto me and I feel him against me. "Now, this will hurt, I will try to make it as painless for you as possible."

I gasped and fear filled me for a moment. But then, Sherlock takes my face in his hands and kisses me. It's a hot open mouthed kiss. I am so focused on the passion that I almost forget what's about to happen. I vaguely remember one of his hands cupping my hip and his other arm cradled my shoulders. Then, Sherlock entered me with one thrust. I broke the kiss and let a whimper out at the sharp pain I felt he tore through my virginity. Tears filled my eyes against my will and I closed them for a moment. I buried my face into his neck, so he couldn't see my tears.

"I won't move, until the pain is gone." His voice is low and husky as he nuzzles my neck. I pull back slowly and study his face. I can see in his eyes the control and the desire as he eases me back onto the bed. "Now, focus on my mouth," he leans forward to kiss me. "focus on me."

True to his word, Sherlock kissed me multiple times. His lips distracted me, allowing me time for my body to adjust. Our hearts bonded in that instance in a much deeper, intimate connection than anything I'd ever felt before. I couldn't imagine loving anyone more than I loved Sherlock in that instance.

And what followed…well, it was too beautiful to even describe. It was almost too good to be true. Sherlock had been so loving and tender with me. I'm glad that he could see and know what I wanted or needed. He could tell when I had become more comfortable with this situation, for his moves got a little harder, which I found out, I actually liked. As I began to fall asleep, with my hands and face against his chest, his arms around my shoulder and our legs intertwined, I knew I'd finally found where I belonged. It was with him, in his arms and I didn't want to leave.


	18. 18: A four day honeymoon

Chapter Eighteen: A four day honeymoon

* * *

I yawned to find Sherlock was sitting up in bed, my head was in his lap, and his hand was in my hair. I bolted upright, jostling the cup of tea he had in his other hand and sloshing it all over him.

Sherlock let out a shout as the hot tea doused him. I stared at him as he shook his hands. He looked at me, instead of annoyance in his eyes, I saw amusement. "Was I that bad last night Mrs. Holmes?"

I blushed and brushed the hair back from my eyes. "No, you were wonderful." At the look in his eyes I began to blush and stutter more. "Oh, I-I'm sorry. I-I can't believe I just said that."

"Quite flattering Tammy."He leaned forward and kissed me. "And don't worry about the tea, it was an accident. After all, it's your first time waking up in bed with a man, even if it is your husband." He jumped out of bed, wearing what appeared to be swimming trunks. "Now, I'll go get breakfast for us, I can imagine you're hungry."

"Thank you and yes, I am." I got out of bed and looked down for my slippers to realize that I was still completely naked.

I let out a yelp and yanked the covers back over me, looking frantically for my robe. Sherlock chuckled as he approached me with my robe. I blushed and tried not to look too embarrassed about being in his presence like this. He handed me my robe and I scrambled into it.

"You might feel a little sore after last," he explained to me as the heat filled my cheeks. "but it'll pass."

"Thank you." I bit out.

He kissed me. "Don't be so embarrassed Tammy. Your body is now mine as mine is yours."

I nodded. "Well, nothing embarrasses you."

"I know. Imagine if things like this did embarrass me. Between the two of us, things would have never gone off as well as they did last night." He leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. I leaned into the kiss and moaned slightly as desire flooded my body. He gently pulled away before turning and walking off. "I should be back within five minutes. I'll meet you in the Jacuzzi."

"Sherlock!"

"What?" he laughed. "I said I'd meet you there last night. Remember? Mycroft has an assortment of suits in there. I left out all the one piece suits for you to pick, but don't be surprised that there's only three for you to pick from. For some reason, he thought you'd wear a bikini."

He closed the door on me and I mumbled. "I can't believe this."

I walked to the bathroom and cleaned myself up. I had some dried blood on my thighs and I wasn't overly sore. I went into the next room and looked at the suits. Goodness! Didn't Mycroft know I was very conservative? Honestly. Only one covered me up completely, but the neckline was very low. It was a plain white suit and I hoped it wouldn't go transparent when I got wet. I opened up the drawers, looking for the suits to return the other two to their proper place. Then, I saw the bikinis and for a moment I contemplated putting one on. I'd never worn one before and I wasn't planning on wearing one in the future. Still, some of them were rather pretty looking.

Then, I remembered Sherlock saying how he'd pulled out the one piece suits for me, he was expecting me to put them on. The bikinis had never even entered his mind. I smirked, wondering how he'd react to me being in one. I shoved the white suit aside and pulled out a red bikini. It felt awkward, when I was so used to wearing the one-piece suit. Still, I don't think there was anything wrong with it as long as I was with my husband.

I sat on the edge of the Jacuzzi, it was on and bubbling lightly. I then looked for two towels for us and after locating them, I put them on the edge of the Jacuzzi. I observed a small folding table and opened it, placing it nearby so Sherlock could put the breakfast tray on it.

I sat on the edge of the Jacuzzi just as the door opened. I spun around as Sherlock came in. "Ok, I made sure they did your cocoa right," then he saw me and his eyes widened in surprised and the tray tilted precariously in his grasp. "God!"

I jumped up and examined the damage done to the breakfast tray. "Careful."

"You're wearing a bikini."

"Thank goodness you didn't spill something." I continued as if I hadn't heard him all. I took it from him and placed it on the tray.

"You're wearing a bikini."

I laughed. "I wasn't planning to put it on. But then I decided to catch you off guard." He pulled off his robe. "You should have seen the look on your face!"

"You should see what's going on in my mind." He said as he stepped forward, wrapping his arms around me.

I kissed him and blushed slightly. "Tell me about it later. I am starving."

I turned my back to him and got into the Jacuzzi. "Who can think of food at a time like this?" He said with a slight sulk and I laughed at him.

"I can." I reached for my cocoa, blowing on it before sipping it. "Hmm, delicious. They actually had raspberry?"

"I brought some packets along, just in case." He got into the Jacuzzi and settled into the water beside me. "Do you have…any idea…how sexy you look right now?"

I paused in place. "No."

My female intuition told me to put my cocoa back on the tray and I did it. Good thing too, for Sherlock pulled me under him and I was forced to grab onto a rock for support. "You are….deliberately, the most, sexy woman on the face of this earth." I blushed and his eyes narrowed. "Please tell me I'm the first man to call you sexy as well?" I nodded. "Good."

He pulled me under the water and I barely had time to catch a breath before I was fully submerged. I impulsively wrapped my legs around his waist as we broke the surface together. Sherlock kissed me, it was a wet, anxious kiss and it sent my pulse skyrocketing again.

"Can I have you?" he asked against my lips, sending droplets of water across my face. "I must have you again."

I nodded and wrapped my arms around his neck. "I'm yours to have…as long as you want me."

"Don't say things like that," he said as his hands went to the bottom of my bikini. "I might never let you out of this Jacuzzi again. And _never _say it when you're wearing red." I shiver as he stares me down. "I swear, I could have you over and over again until every drop of blood in your veins begged for mercy."

* * *

The next few days were simply wonderful. Sherlock and I went for picnics in the woods and I'd come out of the woods looking as if I'd been thoroughly shagged and I had been. But we didn't do just that, Sherlock surprised me by getting two horses ready from the stables. I knew how to ride; it had been many years. Sherlock didn't know how to ride, but he caught on instantly and we spent a morning galloping around the hills. We played tennis and he beat me. We swam and he beat me. I played checkers and he beat me. Good thing I didn't mind loosing games that much.

I loved the nights most of all. Sherlock would start a small fire in our bedroom fireplace, dim the lights, and set up a glass of wine with a box of chocolates. I'd sit in his lap and he'd read to me. He had the most…hypnotic voice; it was simply magnificent to listen to. I could listen to him read to me for hours and never get bored. After he was certain he'd 'drugged me up' he'd make love to me.

Most people, wouldn't consider Sherlock being a romantic man. Frankly, neither did I until our honeymoon. He actually did have human emotions and needs as much as any man did, he just couldn't afford to show them. Sherlock let his guard down around me and I was glad that he allowed me to see the other side of him, the side that he never let others see.

We'd only been gone four days before getting a call from Lestrade. When I heard Sherlock talking to Lestrade, I knew exactly what was coming. When Sherlock got off his phone and I held up my hand stopping him from speaking. "Don't say it; I never really unpacked my bag, all I have to is zipper it up." I stood up and started picking up Sherlock's clothes. "Come on, I'll help you pack up. So, what does this case entail?"

"At the moment, I'm looking at my case." I frowned as he looked at me, standing there with all of his shirts in my arms. "You're not mad at me? I thought you'd be."

"Now why on earth would I be mad?"

"We _are _on our honeymoon." He took his shirts from me and set them aside. "I thought honeymoon's lasted almost two weeks and most brides _hate _it when their husband abandons them on their honeymoon."

"I knew exactly what I was getting when I married you and I'm actually crazy enough to like being around you when we're on a case. Besides, I'm certain you'll make it up to me." He presses me against his chest as I inhale deeply. It was then that I noticed a funny odor coming from his clothes. "What's on your clothes?" I inhaled and noticed it was cigarette smoke. "Since when did you start smoking?"

He shrugged. "Since the Adler case."

My mouth fell open in surprise. "And I've only now just noticed?"

He smirked. "I was waiting for you to catch on."

"Where are the cigarettes?"

"Actually, I went through my one pack."

"Don't believe you." I pulled away from him and started searching through his clothes in his bag. "You _never _buy things by ones; you always buy them by two's. I will find them, now hand them over. Cigarettes are bad from brain work." He reached into his pocket and held them out to me. I smiled. "Thank you."

I pulled them out of the carton and sashayed to the bathroom. I dropped them in the toilet and flushed it. "Tammy," he said directly behind me. "I'm not sure that's good for the plumbing."

"I don't care about the plumbing," I said as I faced him. "I'm more concerned about your brain. Now," I draped my arms around his neck. "no more smoking again. Promise me?"

"Now Tammy, a little smoke now and then-

"Promise me!" I added firmly. When he hesitated, I bucked my hips against him and his eyes widened. "Promise."

"Fine! I promise."

"Good." I avoided his kiss, moved out of his embrace and went back to the bedroom. "Now let's go, you've got a case to solve."

Sherlock growled in aggravation. "You little seductress."

"Now, what's the case about?" I asked. "And keep your hands off me until we're in the helicopter." I froze. "On the other hand, keep your hands off me in the helicopter. Wait until we get home."

"Fine." I pulled out my phone and began texting John. "Who are you texting?"

"I'm telling John to expect us." That's partly true. I also told him that Sherlock had been smoking and to check his flat for cigarettes. "You were saying about the case?"

"Well, apparently," he stated. "there's been a murder with a harpoon."

I stared at him. "You're kidding."

"No. And evidentially, the harpoon went through the man's body and imbedded itself into the wall behind the man."

"Is that even possible?" I asked.

Sherlock nodded. "I believe so."

"Are you sure?"


	19. 19: Sherlock needs a case

Chapter Nineteen: Sherlock needs a case

* * *

I awoke the next morning to find that Sherlock had gone on a case, letting me sleep in again. I got up, dressed and decided to visit Mrs. Hudson. I couldn't find her, but I found Rumpleteazer asleep on Mrs. Hudson's couch, so I left her there. I decided to go to Sherlock's flat and see if he was there. He wasn't, but John was down there, reading a newspaper.

He smiled. "Hello Tammy." He stood up and hugged me. "How was the honeymoon?"

I smiled. "Wonderful."

"Good to know." He exhaled. "Sorry that it got cut short."

"Well, I did marry a detective. I'm hungry and I'm going to raid the refrigerator, if you don't mind."

"Help yourself." I opened the refrigerator to find it still clean. "And if I haven't said, thank you, for that other refrigerator, I say it now. It's so nice not to find body parts in with the food."

"Agreed." I grabbed two eggs and pulled out the bacon. Cereal would have been healthier, but I was hungry.

The door opened and I heard Sherlock's voice. "Well that was tedious."

"You went on the tube like that?" John was staring at Sherlock in amazement.

"None of the cabs would take me." He sounded positively livid.

I rounded the corner. "Now why on earth wouldn't," then I saw Sherlock. He was covered in blood from head to toe. "Sherlock!" I dropped the eggs. "What happened?!"

"I told you it was possible to harpoon someone."

"You harpooned someone!?"

"A pig and don't worry, it was dead." He stated as he brushed by me. "I'll be in the shower."

"I should hope so!" I turned back to the mess I made and groaned. "Great." I began cleaning up the eggs, muttering to myself and cursing my luck. "I can't believe this."

"Tammy!" Sherlock called from within the bathroom. "Come in here for a minute."

I exhaled in disbelief as John peered up from his newspaper. "I know I shouldn't be surprised, but he manages to get me every once in a while. Doesn't he know about propriety? And I can just imagine what he's got going on in that mind of his."

"This is Sherlock we're talking about." John cleared his throat. "Shall I come back in an hour or something?"

"No. It's fine."

"Tammy!" he shouted. "Don't make me go out there and get you!"

"He would too." I groaned. "On second thought, just keep your ears plugged."

John nodded. "Right."

Sherlock was a difficult man to please. First, he wanted me to tell him if he'd gotten all the blood off his body and I nodded. Then, he said he forgot his clothes, so I got a set. He didn't want to wear the jeans and sent me to get the slacks. I came in and he was waiting behind the door for me to enter the room. And then Sherlock grabbed me and made love to me against the bathroom counter.

Dear John, he acted as if nothing were going on between us. He hid behind his newspaper, though I knew that I he knew everything that had been going on behind that bathroom door. I took my book, a modern retelling of 'Pride and Prejudice' by Debra White Smith and settled on the couch. Sherlock was fine for a while, and then he began to grow impatient. He began pacing around the room with his harpoon in hand, I watched him out of the corner of my eye.

"Nothing?" he asked John who was looking through his newspaper.

"Uhmm, military coup in Uganda." Sherlock wasn't interested. "Another photo of you in the," Sherlock groaned and I laughed. Sherlock had gotten caught during a case wearing a deerstalker hat and he _hated _it. "cabinet military reshuffle."

"Nothing of importance!" Sherlock slammed the end of his harpoon on the ground and shouted. "Oh! God!" he turned to John and snapped at him. "John, I need some. Get me some."

John didn't even blink. "No."

"Get me some."

"Sorry, can't help you."

"No. Cold turkey, we agreed." He said pointing a finger at Sherlock. "And you promised Tammy. Anyway, you paid everyone off remember? Nobody in a two mile radius will sell you anything."

"Stupid idea." He growled. "Whose idea was that?"

"Yours," I said gently. "and I ensured that it would happen."

Sherlock glowered at me and shouted. "Mrs. Hudson!"

Then, he began searching his desk frantically. I bit my lip and tried not to cave into surrendering him the cigarettes I'd asked John to hide under Sherlock's skull. He began throwing the papers all around the room.

I sighed and put my book down and began picking up the papers. "Look, Sherlock," John said patiently. "you're doing really well. Don't give up now! And you're making a mess for Tammy."

"Tell me where they are!" Sherlock's voice grew frantic. "Please! Tell me!"

He backed up and tripped over me. He let out a grunt as he fell down on his back. "Are you all right?" I asked.

"Are you?" I nodded. "Good." He turned back to John. "Please."

John shook his head. "Sorry, can't help."

Sherlock tried a new tact. "I'll let you know next week's lottery numbers." John rolled his eyes. "Well it was worth a try."

"Look Sherlock," I said. "I hid your cigarettes."

His eyes lit up and he got down on my level. "You hid them?" I nodded. Sherlock's eyes flashed and he pinned me down on the ground and towered over me. "Getting their hiding place out of you should be relatively easy." I gulp back a laugh. "Newly wedded wife, honeymoon cut relatively short, hormones spinning out of control. Pupils are dilated, pulse is racing, and face is flushing. Tell me where they are, and I'll put an end to your suffering."

"I'm not telling you." I stated. "Now get off me, John's here."

"It's just John." He rolls his eyes. "He ignores almost anything that goes on around him anyway."

"Sherlock."

"Tell me where they are," he threatened. "and I'll let you up."

"No!"

"Fine. I'll have to do this the hard way."

Sherlock kissed me and I let out a squeal of surprise as he worked his mouth against mine. I pushed on his chest and shook my head, but I couldn't dislodge his insistent mouth from mine. I sat up and tried backing away from him, but I wound up whacking my back into the wall. I pushed on his chest and was somehow able to break away from him. I crawled towards John's chair with Sherlock behind me. Sherlock grabbed my ankle and I squealed and grabbed onto John's chair.

"John!" I shrieked. "Help me!" John looked completely embarrassed, but he pulled me up from the ground and I sat on the arm of his chair. "Thank you!" Sherlock jumped up and went towards me. I held my hands out. "You stay away from me!" I pressed my hand against my heart. "I mean it; you keep your hands off me!"

Sherlock glowered at me. "You just wait a minute. I will get it out of you." His dark eyes tell me that he is serious. "I will get it out of you, tonight! I will have you screaming out their location in a matter of minutes!"

"Oh Christ." John said. "I can't believe I'm hearing this."

"Yoo hoo." Mrs. Hudson came in the room just as Sherlock went to the floor and began looking through the items in front of the fireplace.

"My secret supply!" Sherlock said. "What did Tammy do with my secret supply?"

"What?"

"Cigarettes. Where are they?"

"You know you never let me touch your things." She stated. "And Tammy's right here."

"I'm not talking to him Mrs. Hudson." I explained. "I hid his cigarettes."

Sherlock jumped up and glowered at her. "I thought you weren't my housekeeper."

"I'm not." She stated firmly. Sherlock let out a groan and stomped over towards his harpoon. John made a drinking motion to Mrs. Hudson. "How about a nice cup of tea? And perhaps you can put away your harpoon."

Sherlock spun around. "I need something stronger than tea. Seven percent stronger!" Suddenly, Sherlock focused in on Mrs. Hudson and he pointed his harpoon at her. "I see you've been seeing Mr. Chaterjee again."

"Pardon?"

"Sandwich shop. That's a new dress, but there's flour on the sleeve. You wouldn't dress like that for baking."

"Sherlock." John and I warned him in total unison.

"Thumbnail, tiny traces of foil. Been at the scratch cards again. We all know where that leads don't we?" He inhaled. "Hmm, Casaba Nights, pretty racy for first thing a Monday morning. Wouldn't you agree? Tammy has been quite useful to the Elizabeth Taylor perfume line, it's really been selling well, thanks to John's blog. I've written a little blog about the identification of perfumes. It's on the website you should look it up."

"Please." Mrs. Hudson said.

But Sherlock wouldn't shut up. "And I wouldn't pin your hopes on that cruiser Mr. Chaterjee. He's got a wife in Doncaster that nobody knows about!"

"Sherlock!" I shouted as I jumped off the arm of John's chair.

"Well nobody except me." He said throwing his hands in the air.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Mrs. Hudson said and I heard the tears in her voice. "I really don't."

She turned and hurried out of the room. "Mrs. Hudson! Wait please!" I called after her, but she just kept going. Sherlock vaulted onto his chair in his 'monkey' position again.

"What the bloody hell was all that about?" John asked as he slammed his newspaper down.

"You don't understand." Sherlock rocked on his heels.

"Go after her and apologize."

"Apologize?" Sherlock looked as if John had asked him to jump off the moon. "Oh, John, I envy you so much."

I frowned, there had to be a punch line coming. John frowned, waiting for it as well. "You envy me?"

"Your mind, it's so placid, straight-forward, barely used. Mine's like an engine, racing out of control. A rocket, tearing itself to pieces, trapped on the launch pad." Sherlock shouted. "I need a case!

"You've just solved one," John shouted back at him. "by harpooning a dead pig, apparently!"

"Oh, that was this morning." Sherlock's feet shot out from under him and he slammed himself down in his chair. He then began to impatiently drum his fingers on the armrest while swiveling his hips back and forth. "When's the next one?"

John frowned. "Nothing on the website?"

Sherlock picked up John's laptop and deposited it in John's lap. "Dear Mr. Sherlock Holmes," he said in a childish voice. "I can't find Bluebell anywhere. Please, please, please can you help?" I almost burst out laughing as Sherlock walked and bobbed his head in time each time he said please.

John spoke cautiously "Bluebell?"

"A rabbit, John!" He snapped angrily. "Ah, wait, but there's more! Before it disappeared, it turned luminous, "like a fairy," according to little Kristie." At this point John and I were both sure that Sherlock had temporarily lost his mind. "Then the next morning, Bluebell was gone! Hutch still locked no sign of a forced entry." He stopped and for a moment I thought he'd realized that he'd missed something. "What am I saying? This is brilliant! Phone Lestrade; tell him there's an escaped rabbit. "

John stared at him. "You're serious?"

"It's either this," Sherlock threatened. "or Cluedo."

"Oh no." John closed the laptop with a snap and stood up. "we are _never_ playing that again."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not actually possible for the victim to have done it, Sherlock, that's why!"

"Well, it was the only possible solution."

"It's not in the rules!"

"Well then, the rules are wrong!"

"I've had enough of this!" I shouted. "Sherlock! Go apologize to Mrs. Hudson this instance."

"Why?"

"Because I am _telling _you to!" he stared at me. "Ordinarily, I would ask, but I am demanding. You hurt her and you, since you've married me, should be more sensitive when speaking in that area!"

"What area?"

I groaned. "For Heaven's sake Sherlock, you and I, God willing, are going to have each other for the next 50 years! Who is she going to have or find at her age?" understanding flashed in his eyes. "It's harder to find someone at that age and you could have told her that Mr. Chaterjee was married in a nicer manner than the way you taunted her and all because you were mad that I wouldn't give you your bloody cigarettes!"

Sherlock nodded and walked towards me. "All right." He kissed my cheek. "I'll be back in a moment."

He turned and walked away; I placed a hand on his shoulder and hugged him from behind. "I love you." Sherlock didn't respond, except to squeeze my hands for a moment before continuing on his mission.

Once he was out of earshot, I turned back to John who was watching me. "Does he ever say he loves you?"

I shrugged. "He told me twice John. Once, before he proposed and that was when I really needed to hear it. The second, in his wedding vows and he says he'll only say it to me once more."

He frowned. "And when will that be?"

"When either of us is on our deathbed."


	20. 20: Mr Henry Knight

Chapter Twenty: Mr. Henry Knight

* * *

I heard the doorbell ring about ten minutes later. I'd gone upstairs and began putting away my clothes. I smiled as I carefully placed my wedding dress inside of the hope chest that Mrs. Hudson had given me. I then came downstairs to return her shoes to her and I found her gone. I climbed up the stairs and heard Sherlock talking to a client.

"Yes, good," He sounded bored to death. "skipping to the night that your dad was violently killed." I bit my lip; he really needed to be more delicate and tactful when speaking to people, especially when they'd lost a loved one. "Where did that happen?"

"There's a place, it's a sort of local landmark called Dewar's Hollow." He paused for dramatic effect. "That's an ancient name for the devil."

Sherlock still didn't sound interested. "So?"

Thank goodness John spoke up. "Did you see the devil that night?"

"Yes." The man's voice sounded haunted. "It was huge. Coal black fur with red eyes. It got him. Tore at him, tore him apart. I can't remember anything else." The anguish in his voice caused me to feel indescribable sadness for him. "They found the next morning just wandering on the moor. My dad's body was never found."

"Tammy," Sherlock said. "get in here and stop listening in."

I walked into the room and tried not to look embarrassed. Their client was a young man, with a troubled expression in his eyes. He had an almost guilty, out of this world expression. There was no doubt in my mind that the memory of his father's death had caused him to suffer all his life. He turned around and watched me walk in the room. I smiled kindly at him. "Sorry. It just sounded interesting." I explained as I held out my hand. "My name is Tammy."

"Henry Knight." He stuttered slightly. "I'm pleased to meet you."

Sherlock spoke. "Tammy, do sit down."

"Fine."

Henry got up from his chair. "Here."

"Oh no, thank you." I said as I moved towards Sherlock and sat on the arm of his chair. I needed to be in a good position to poke him if he misbehaved. "I'm fine right here."

John spoke up. "So, red eyes, cold black fur. Enormous... dog? Wolf?

Sherlock hissed. "Or a genetic experiment."

I poked him in the shoulder. "Are you laughing at me, Mr. Holmes?" Henry asked.

Sherlock still appeared completely disinterested. "Why, are you joking?"

"Sherlock." I said. "Be kind."

Henry spoke to Sherlock. "My dad was always going on about the things they were doing at Baskerville. About the type of monsters they were breeding there. People used to laugh at him. At least the TV people took me seriously.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I assume it did wonders for Devon tourism."

"Sherlock, stop it." I said. "I will not ask you again."

"Henry," John said gently. "whatever did happen to your father, it was twenty years ago. Why come to us now?"

By now, Henry was too offended by Sherlock's remarks and he wasn't going to talk anymore. "I'm not sure you can help me, Mr. Holmes, because you find it all so funny."

He spat the last word out and he jumped out of his chair. "Henry," I said as I got up and moved towards him. "wait a minute please." He paused and I stood directly in front of him. "Sherlock can be a rude man at times and I apologize. Now, he is usually nicer than this," I shot Sherlock a glare. "but he's suffering from cigarette withdrawal and he's being very cranky. So please," I laid a hand on his arm and nudged him in the direction of his chair again. "sit down, and tell us why you came to us?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Because of what happened last night."

"Why?" John asked. "What happened last night?"

Now, Sherlock had everyone's attention, including Henry's, right where he wanted it, on him. Henry frowned. "How did you know?"

"I didn't know, I noticed. Tammy, sit back down." Sherlock launched into his monologue mode. "You came up from Devon on the first available train this morning. You had a disappointing breakfast and a cup of black coffee. The girl across the aisle fancied you, although you were initially keen, you've now changed your mind. You are now extremely anxious to have your first cigarette of the day. So do sit down Mr. Knight, and please smoke, I'd be delighted." He patted the arm of his chair. "I said sit down."

"I'm not your dog." But I sat down on the arm of his chair anyway.

Henry moved back towards his chair, looking stunned by Sherlock's observation. "How on Earth did you notice all that?"

"It's not important." John said.

But Sherlock began deducing. "Punched out holes where your ticket's been changed-

John interrupted. "Not now, Sherlock."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Oh please. I've been cooped up here for ages."

"You're just showing off."

"Of course. I am a show-off," he sounded a little agitated, as if he were upset that john didn't remember. "that's what we do."

"Thank you for at least admitting it." I murmured. "Prepare to be amazed Henry Knight."

"Besides, Tammy loves it." He smirks at me. "If I didn't know any better I say it turns you on."

"No comment. Since I do love these moments, shut up and deduce."

"Train napkin, used to mom up the spilled coffee. Strength of the coffee stain shows that you didn't take milk. There are traces of ketchup on it around your mouth and on your sleeve. Cooked breakfast, the nearest thing those trains could manage, probably a sandwich.

"How did you know it was," Henry sounded completely surprised. "disappointing?"

"Is there any other type of breakfast on a train?" I fought back the smirk. "The girl, female handwriting is quite distinctive. Wrote her phone number down on the napkin, I could tell from the angle she sat at, that she was sat across from you on the other side of the aisle. Later, after she got off, I can imagine you used the napkin to mop up your spilled coffee, accidentally smudging the numbers. You've been over the last four digits yourself in another pen. You wanted to keep the number; just now you used the napkin to blow your nose. Maybe you're not that into her after all." I couldn't keep the look of pride or the smile off my stain at this point. When Sherlock got a case after being bored, he was on fire! "Then there's the nicotine stain on your fingers, your shaking fingers, I know the signs. No chance to smoke one on the train, no time to roll one before you got a cab here. It's just after 9:15. You're desperate. The first train from Exeter to London leaves at 5:46 AM, but you got the first one possible so something important must have happened last night? Am I wrong?"

Henry's mouth was hanging open in amazement. He drew in a ragged breath. "No. You're right. You're completely exactly right. Bloody hell, I heard you were quick."

"It's my job." He leaned forward and demanded. "Now shut up and smoke!

I groaned and rubbed my forehead. Henry did as Sherlock asked and I turned to John. He nodded and began speaking. "Henry your parents both died and you were what, seven years old?"

Sherlock had been watching Henry's every move as he pulled out a cigarette, lit it and began to smoke it. Henry exhaled, filling the flat with smoke. "I know that must-

His voice petered out as Sherlock got out of his chair, leaned forward, close to Henry's face and inhaled the smoke. My mouth dropped open. _He didn't just do that! _Poor Henry could only stare at Sherlock, who let out a small moan of contentment.

John was somehow able to get his mouth working. "That, that must be quite a trauma. Did you ever think that you imagined this story," Sherlock leaned forward and sniffed in Henry's cigarette smoke deeply again. I covered my face. _Oh, I'm going to die of embarrassment! _John and Henry both tried to act as if Sherlock weren't there. "to account for it."

"That's what…Dr. Mortimer says.

"Who?"

"His therapist." Sherlock, Henry and I said at the same time.

Sherlock smirked at me. "You're catching on. I may make you into a proper Holmes yet."

"Louise Mortimer," Henry explained. "she's the reason I came back to Dartmoor. She thinks I have to face my demons."

"What happened when you went back to Dewar's Hollow last night Henry? You went on the advice of a therapist and now you're consulting a detective. What did you see that changed everything?"

"It's a strange place, the Hollow. Makes you feel so cold inside, so afraid."

"Yes, if I wanted poetry I'd read John's emails to his girlfriends. Much funnier."

"Sherlock!" I said elbowing him. "You shouldn't!"

He ignored me. "What did you see?"

"Footprints, on the exact spot where I saw my father torn apart."

Sherlock rolled back into his chair, disappointed. "Man's or woman's?" John asked.

"Neither," Henry said, catching my attention. "they were-

"Is that it?" Sherlock was disappointed; he'd been expecting something else. "Nothing else? Footprints? Is that all?"

"Yes," Henry tried to explain. "but they were-

"No sorry, Dr. Mortimer wins. Childhood trauma massed by and invented memory. Boring! Goodbye, Mr. Knight. Thank you for smoking."

"No, but what about the footprints?"

"Oh, they're probably paw prints, could be anything left or nothing." Sherlock shook his hands as if he were shooing a pesky fly off his shoulder. "Off to Devon with you and have a cream tea on me."

He stood up and walked towards the kitchen, buttoning up his coat. "Sherlock!" I called after him. "The incident was 20 years ago. Why are the footprints still there?"

"Mr. Holmes," Henry called. "they were the footprints of a gigantic hound!

Sherlock stopped so suddenly that I crashed into him. I steeped away as Sherlock turned slowly to face Henry. "Say that again."

"I found the footprints they were big-

"No, no, no, your exact words." He said firmly. "Repeat your exact words from a moment ago, exactly as you said them."

"Mr. Holmes," he said slowly. "they were the footprints of a gigantic…. hound."

Sherlock drew himself up a little taller. I knew in that instance that Henry had captured Sherlock's interest. "I'll take the case."

John, as always, was surprised. "Sorry, what?"

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention." Sherlock had his hands folded, as if in prayer, under his chin. He was all ready working on the case. "It's very promising."

"No, no, no. Sorry, what?" John asked. "A minute ago footprints were boring, and now they're very promising?

"It has nothing to do with the footprints." He said. "As ever, John, you weren't listening. Baskerville ever heard of it?

"Vaguely, it's very hush-hush."

"Sounds like a very good place to start."

Henry was stunned. "You'll come down then?"

"No, I can't leave London at the moment, far too busy." I exhaled and crossed my arms over my chest. Sherlock was being rather mysterious and stubborn today. "But don't worry. I'm putting my best man onto it." he patted John on his shoulder. "Always rely on John to send me all the relevant data as he never understands a word of it himself."

"What are you talking about, you're busy?" John sounded rather indignant. "You don't have a case. A minute ago you were complaining-

"Bluebell, John!" My mouth drops open in shock. "I've got Bluebell. The case of the vanishing glow-in-the-dark rabbit. NATO's in uproar."

"Oh, sorry." Henry said. "You're not coming then?"

Sherlock shook his head sadly. John must have realized what Sherlock's problem was for he stood up. "Okay. Okay."

He then moved towards the mantelpiece. "John," I threatened. "don't you dare!"

"Sorry Tammy." John grabbed the cigarette from under the skull.

"Now I've got to find a new hiding place." Sherlock caught the cigarettes when John tossed them at him. "If you keep those-

I didn't need to finish my threat. Sherlock wasn't interested in them for he immediately threw up in the air. "Don't need those anymore, I'm going to Dartmoor. You go on ahead, Henry. We'll follow later."

Henry was now totally confused. "Sorry, so you are coming?"

Sherlock was now completely high. "Twenty year old disappearance? A monstrous hound? I wouldn't miss this for the world!" he turned to walk away and called over his shoulder. "Train reservations for two John."

"Three." I corrected as I turned to go upstairs and repack my bag. "I'm coming with you."

Sherlock stopped and spun around on his heel. "You're not going."

"Oh yes I am."

He crossed his arms. "No, you're not! It'll be cold, dangerous and I don't want you there!"

"I don't care. I can handle the cold and I'll be perfectly safe as long as I'm near you!"

"Sweetly romantic Tammy, but illogical." He shouted at me. "You're not going and that's final!"

"Call me sentimental," I snapped at him. "but we've only been married approximately 5 days and I really don't want to wake up again without you beside me for a few days!"

I knew in that moment I'd won, I saw his eyes soften. I waited patiently as he thought it through. Then, he gave me the sign I'd been waiting for. He nodded. "All right. But make sure you dress warmly."

I hugged him and kissed his cheek. "Thank you darling!"

"Darling?" it sounded a little awkward tripping off his tongue.

"Sorry," I looked into his eyes. "I won't call you that again."

"It's….fine," he murmured slowly. "as long as it comes out of your mouth." He kissed me and I purred contentedly. He broke the kiss. "Enough of that. God, you're great at distracting me."

"I wasn't trying to."

"That's why it works." He slaps me on my backside. "Now get packing!"

I saluted. "As you wish Mr. Holmes!"

"Move it Riddler," he turned and walked back into his flat. "and see if you can find a pair of pants in your wardrobe ensemble."

"I hate pants and you know that!"

"It's going to be really cold." He said. "I won't have you coughing incessantly."

"Excuse me for breathing." I retorted.

"It's your breathing that causes you to start coughing." He pointed out. "Remember?"

"Obviously, I already know the information you disclosed to me. But we don't have time for me to buy a pair of pants, there's bound to be a store in…wherever we're going and I'll get a pair of pants there! Now, stop chewing the fat and the get the lead out of! Bet you a pound that I can pack my suitcase up before you."

His eyes lit up. "You're on!"

"And bring a pair of jeans!" I called as I raced up the stairs.

"Fine!" He called and I peered behind me to see he was still watching me. "But I won't be wearing them!"

"We'll see."


	21. 21: Mrs Holmes

Chapter Twenty-One: Mrs. Holmes

* * *

Sherlock won, but that was because he hadn't unpacked his suitcase from last night. I couldn't believe it! But he gave me the money back and said he'd collect the fee from me later tonight.

It wasn't a long train ride, but I hated riding on trains. Sherlock was lost in thought the whole time. John realized I was somewhat bored, so we went into the dining car and played a bunch of odd little games on his phone. John almost persuaded me to buy a new phone, but I soon realized that it wouldn't be sensible, as I didn't have time to play games.

Once our train trip ended, we piled into a cab and checked into the Cross Keys Pub. John and I got the rooms while Sherlock began investing. John and I actually got mistaken for a married couple, which embarrassed the heck out of me. But for John, it was a relief to finally not being mistaken for

Then we went out to find that Sherlock had told some young man named Fletcher that he'd 'bet' John 50 quid that Fletcher didn't have any proof that there was an actual hound. But after Sherlock egging him on, he was able to supply enough proof that forced Sherlock to hand over the 50 quid. Then, we all piled into a black Land Rover, heading out towards Baskerville. Sherlock tried for most part to get the 50 quid back, but John refused to hand it over, saying that Sherlock owed him for all the taxi rides that John covered.

My poor body was so tired that I fell asleep in the back. I'd flown back to London the night before, got on a train this morning and now I was taking a car ride! And during that time I'd packed and unpacked at least twice! I woke, to hear the sounds of a loud, blaring alarm going off.

The door flew open and a man with a huge rifle shouted. "Get out of the car! Now!"

"All right!" I stumbled out of the car and fell flat on my face.

"Get up!"

"All right!" I said as I hauled myself up. He grabbed a hold of my arm and gave me a shove forward. "Take it easy! I haven't done anything!"

"Be quiet!"

"Tammy?" I looked up to see the last face I'd expected to see. "Robert! What are you doing here?"

"What am _I_ doing here?" I stared at Robert. "What are _you _doing here?" I shouted at him. At that moment the sirens stopped blaring and I lowered my voice. "Sorry."

He turned to the soldier. "I've got this. It's all right. I know her." The soldier shot me a dirty look and walked away. I brushed off my clothes. Robert reached out and brushed some dirt off my shoulder. "Sorry about that, we obviously had some intruders."

_Sherlock_. I thought to myself as I shifted away from him. "I was sleeping."

"I can tell." He looked me up and down; my flesh crawled under his gaze. True, my flesh crawled when Sherlock looked at me, but this was different. Sherlock was my husband, Robert was not and no man had any right to look at me in that manner anymore. "You look different."

"How?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. Your face, I don't know, you just look like you're…glowing. Your figure, it's…wonderful, I never noticed."

"Thanks for the compliment, but what are you doing here?" I repeated. "I thought that you were back in the States!"

"I got a job here, with Dr. Franklyn. After my aunt's death, and you here, I just couldn't go back to the states. I figured I'd give you a few months and then try again." He said. "What are you doing here? This is a military base!"

"So I figured!" I crossed my arms. "I'm here on business."

"I thought you were sleeping."

"So, I fell asleep during business hours, hardly unusual."

"What kind of business?"

"Personal business that doesn't concern you," I looked up to see Sherlock and John approaching us. I exhaled in relief.

"Sherlock Holmes," I said. "what did you do?"

"I'll explain it in the car." He stated. He glanced at Robert with disdain. "What are _you _doing here?"

"I work here!" Robert said. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm on a case." Sherlock looked towards me. "What are _you _doing talking to him? You were supposed to be asleep in the car! I told them not to disturb you!"

"There was a super loud red alert alarm off and that evidentially _you _set off and woke me up!" I said. "Besides, some soldier pulled me out of the car, started pushing me around and Robert got him to stop pushing me around."

Sherlock walked towards me, his eyes scanning me. "You ok?"

I nodded. "I'm fine." He reached for my hands, running his long fingers over my scraped palms. His eyes narrowed and I hastened to assure him. "I'm fine, honest."

"He threw you to the ground." His eyes studied me really quick. "And he grabbed you."

"I'm fine Sherlock. Believe me."

"So," Robert asked. "you two are still….dating?"

"No, we're not dating anymore." Sherlock held up my hand. "Dating was so boring that we decided to get married, it's really much more interesting."

The look on Robert's face told me that there was a fight coming. "Don't even think about it!"

Robert swung at Sherlock, which he sidestepped easily. Robert spun around and ran right into Sherlock's fist. Robert let out a shout as Sherlock punched him three more times. Sherlock smoothed his coat back into place. "He's been asking for that." I yawned and he frowned. "I just decked your ex and you're yawning?"

I smirked and stretched up on tiptoe. "Sorry." I kissed him, biting his lip lightly. "You decked him very nicely."

Sherlock smiled. "That's more like it." He kissed me, slipping his tongue inside my mouth for good measure. I still wasn't used to being kissed like this, especially in public. Sherlock fortunately didn't make it a long drawn out kiss. But he really put some loud smacks into it while he gripped my hips tightly in his hand before drawing away. "Just making him miss what he had." He murmurs against my ear. "And it's really...making you look so hot and desirable."

"Thank you…I guess."

John had pulled Robert up, who was rubbing his jaw, staring at the display Sherlock and I were making. "Why?" Robert demanded. "Why Tammy?"

Sherlock groaned. "I thought it was obvious, maybe it hasn't penetrated your funny little brain."

I covered Sherlock's mouth. "I just happen to be in love him."

Sherlock uncovered my mouth. "Look, you cheated on her, threw her away, and then I got her. So, do everyone a favor, get over it and start looking for someone else instead of popping up in our lives like bad food."

'Thank you for that lovely picture Sherlock." I said. "Very eloquent. But I can handle this. Robert."

"Is this what you want?" he asked firmly. "Is he what you really want?"

I nodded. "Yes, I'm happy, I love him. Robert, I'm sorry, but everything got spoiled for us when you cheated on me. But, as heartless as it seems of me, I must thank you for cheating on me."

He tilted his head. "Why?"

"Because, if you hadn't cheated on me, I wouldn't have flown out here, met Sherlock, fallen in love, married him and be exposed to a life of extreme danger for the rest of my life."

Sherlock elbowed me. "I told you to stay home."

"And I said since we just got married last week, I wasn't leaving you." I turned back to Robert and walked towards him. "Now, I am sorry that things didn't work out, but things happen for a reason. I would have been happy to hate you, but now, I can say thank you, for everything." I hugged him. "I wish you the very best and I hope you find the happiness that I found."

"Right," Sherlock said taking my arm and guiding me back to the Land Rover. "time to go. We'll have to talk later."

"Charming Sherlock."

"So?" John asked. "What was all that about the rabbit?"

I frowned. "The rabbit again?"

"Yeah. Oh." John groaned. "Can we not do this this time?

"Do what?" Sherlock asked and I looked at him to see that he'd turned his coat collar up.

"You being all mysterious with your cheekbones and turning your coat collar up so you look cool."

Sherlock looked indignant. "I don't do that."

"Yeah, you do."

"You're doing it this minute.' I said as I hopped into the back seat. "Like the look though."

"Thank you."

"She's your wife Sherlock. For all she cares you could dye your hair pink and she'd still love you because that's what wives do."

Sherlock got in and we were back on the road. For a few minutes, there was silence, allowing Sherlock time to digest whatever he'd learned that day.

"So the email from Kirstie," John asked, breaking the silence. "the missing luminous rabbit."

"Kirstie Stapleton," Sherlock said. "whose mother specializes in genetic manipulation?"

John nodded. "She made her daughter's rabbit glow in the dark."

"Probably a fluorescent gene. Removed and spliced into the specimen, simple enough these days."

"Lovely thought." I said sarcastically.

"So," Sherlock continued speaking as if he hadn't' heard me. "we know that Dr. Stapleton performs secret genetic experiments on animals. The question is, has she been working on something deadlier than a rabbit?"

"To be fair," John said. "that is quite a wide field."

"Indeed. There are hundred of animals." I said. "Where are we off to now?"

"Henry's." Sherlock said.

"Right," John said. "and Sherlock, in the future, you might want to mention that you two are actually married?"

Sherlock frowned. "Why?"

"Because," John shifted uncomfortably. "I had to explain that you two were married when he started questioning Tammy's…marital status."

I blushed. "Oh no!"

Sherlock looked at me. "I'm getting rather used to your frequent admirers Tammy, not that I blame them."

"Sherlock," I said. "in future, kindly refer to me as Mrs. Holmes in the future, in front of clients. Please?"

"Uhmm, no."

"Sherlock."

"Look, I'll refer to you as however I want and if you have a problem with that, why don't we discuss it later?"

"Right, shutting up," I said. "you're on a case."

"Well, don't shut up too long." He said. "if you're too quiet, I start looking around and wondering where you are. And don't go back to sleep again. If you do, you're not going to sleep well tonight."

"According to our bet, I wasn't going to be getting much sleep tonight anyway."

Sherlock nodded. "Right, I'll collect that another night."

"Fine."

John groaned. "I now see why honeymoons were invented."

"Why?"

"It takes about two weeks for the married couple to get all that love out of their systems. You only got a week's worth out. But I guess I can bear all this for another week."

I patted his shoulder. "Thanks John. You're such a sweet sport."

Sherlock made a face. "He is not _sweet_."

"Yes he is. You, are….hmm, I shall have to think about some adjectives that are suitable to you."

John groaned. "We'll have reached Africa by the time you find the proper words!"


	22. 22: Not seeing anything

Chapter Twenty-Two: Not seeing anything

* * *

Well, after the excitement of the day, we parked the Land Rover and Sherlock went to go visit Henry. He gave John the address and left us to do the necessary shopping. I needed to get a pair of pants and John had to get a few supplies and that wasn't an experience I'd ever forget. Unlike most men, John was actually fun to go shopping with. He actually read the product description and compared prices. It was amusing watching his eyebrows furrow and shake his head.

I hated pants and I avoided wearing them unless I had to and if I had to wear pants, I wore slacks. I selected a pair of tan jeans and I wiggled into them. They were stiff and a little snug, but they fit fine. I put on my green sweater, grabbed my warmest jacket and favorite zebra scarf and hat. I then scurried down the stairs to see John waiting for me.

"Good Tammy, Sherlock's waiting for us." John's browns knitted together. "Woah."

I laughed. "That's a good 'woah' I hope."

"Yeah. You should wear pants more often."

I shook my head. "I don't like feeling confined. And I think they make me look fat."

"Fat? You look anything _but _fat. Sherlock…is going to be bowled over."

"Great." I said. 'He's not going to keep his hands off me."

"I'd have never guessed that."

I rolled my eyes. "Funny John." He shook his head as he opened the door for me. "Thank you."

"I still am amazed, at the way Sherlock is around you."

I confessed. "You should see him when it's just us."

"Not sure I want to see that."

I blushed. "I don't mean it like that. He's so… gentle, sweet and patient with me. He talks to me about personal things; his family and I am privileged that he shares this other side with me. But then, he is such a complex man, I feel I could be married to him for a hundred years and I still wouldn't know him well enough."

John nodded. "He loves you very much. It's…almost amazing to see."

"Thank you John."

"Oh," he reached into his pocket and handed me a surgical mask. "here. I checked the weather and it's going to be freezing tonight. If you put this on over first, and then your scarf it might help you not cough as badly."

"Thank you John. That's really thoughtful of you."

John and I talked on the fifteen minute trip back, it was a nice a refreshing little chat. We didn't talk about intellectual things; in fact, stupid little things like food prices, the weather, games and lots of little things. Then, John and I got into the back seat so Sherlock and Henry could have the front seat. Poor Henry looked positively petrified. The atmosphere was wrong, cold and there was something in the air that was frightening.

When we arrived at the hollow, I knew there was something wrong about this. Henry said that it had an ancient name for the Devil and I believed him. There was something wrong about this place.

When the car stopped, heart paused with it. Then everyone began to get out; Sherlock opened my car door. He watched me swing my legs out of the car while John and Henry got the flashlights. "Don't move." I did as he asked and watched as he studied me from top to bottom. "You look...great."

I made a face at him. "I hate pants and you know that."

"Yeah," he placed his hands on either side of my hips. He squeezes my hips and I can't keep from letting out a yelp. "but you fill them out rather nicely."

"You ok?" Henry asked.

"She's fine." Sherlock said casually. I observed John distract Henry. He leaned forward and whispered. "You really need to stop yelping." He squeezed me again and I bit my lip. He kissed me, nibbling on my lower lip a little. "And you really need to stop biting your lip, drives me crazy."

I smile brightly. "Really?"

I bite my lip and quickly, Sherlock reaches between my legs and squeezes. I groan and fall forward as he smirks before helping me out of the car. "Now, let's go."

I shake my head. "You...are…a…devil."

He grinned. "Thanks," he slammed the door behind me. "that means I'm not held back by the rules the angels have to play by."

"True," I reminded him. "but the angels always win."

He nodded. "Yeah that is a downside to the whole thing. Let's go. You are going to be warm enough?"

"Yes."

"Sure you don't want to leave?"

"I'm sure."

"Fine." He turned and walked away from me. "Keep up."

"Right." I pulled the surgical mask over my mouth, and then pulled the scarf over the mask. Now, I really wouldn't be coughing badly. Then, we began the trek. Henry led the way and I stayed right next to Sherlock, without being totally obvious. I rubbed my hands and buried my hands deep in my pockets. The sun seemed to set really fast and there were all sorts of strange sounds.

We walked until we were in the dark woods. I was getting a little creeped out, especially when we started seeing all the danger signs. Henry was more terrified than I was, and I was picking up on his anxiety. Sherlock kept some conversation going, as if he knew that his voice was the balm I needed.

I looked around and noticed we'd lost John. "We lost John.'

"He'll be fine." Sherlock said. "I met a friend of yours."

"Who?"

"Dr. Franklyn." He murmured. "Talking to Henry."

"Sorry." I said. "Your friend Henry."

Sherlock nudged me with his arm and focused on Henry. "He knew your father."

Henry nodded. "Yeah."

Sherlock frowned. "But he works at Baskerville. Didn't your dad have a problem with that?"

Henry shrugged. "Well, mates are mates, aren't they? I mean look at you and John."

Sherlock immediately frowned. "What about us?"

Henry stammered. "Well I mean, he's a pretty straightforward bloke and you

"Are energetic, crazy and somewhat insensitive man." I explained.

"Well, they agreed to never talk about work. Him and my dad." Henry stopped short. "Dewar's Hollow."

Dewar's Hollow was a large sunken pit in the forest floor; three deep caves extend into one of the rock faces. I felt something touch me on my back and I jumped. "Easy Tammy." Sherlock murmured. "Haven't seen anything yet."

"I suppose," I said as we began to descend the hill. "that now would be a bad time to mention that I'm deathly afraid of dogs, especially big ones?"

Sherlock nodded. "Yes, but you wanted to go, deal with it."

"Right, easy for you to say." I took hold of Henry's hand and he almost broke it, squeezing it too tight. "Us chickens will stick close to you." Henry chuckled nervously. "I wish I knew where John was."

"He fought in Afghanistan and he can handle this place."

"Right." Henry's pulse was going crazy and I tried to assure him. "Everything's ok Henry."

"Yes." Sherlock said unreassuringly. "But do let go Tammy, before he crushes your hand."

"Oh, sorry." Henry said.

"It's ok."

We went down the steep slope and I watched as everything began to grow tense. It was a dark, cold, murky and especially foggy place. Sherlock and Henry's flashlights began examining the ground and I saw a few paw prints when Sherlock's flashlight stayed still enough for me to see. I moved to stand close next to Sherlock. He aimed his flashlight upward at the trees as a strange, mournful wail of a dog filled the air.

The air seemed to be sucked out of the hollow and it was like being in the middle of a horror film. I could hear branches snapping and a low growling. Sherlock froze and I saw in the beam of his flashlight, a dog. An ordinary dog, but nothing as terrifying as Henry had described. The dog ran away and I looked at Sherlock, and gasped as I saw his face.

He was…scared. I hadn't been scared until I saw the look of terror on Sherlock's face. I was scared because scared wasn't a word that I'd ever use to describe Sherlock on occasion. He'd laughed in the face of death so many times. Why did I see that terror in his eyes? No, it was more than terror, it was disbelief. Sherlock's hand shook, the flashlight in his hands proved that fact. But why? What did he see that I hadn't?

Sherlock was breathing heavily and he shook his head. Henry scrambled over to us. "Did you see it?"

His words caused Sherlock to withdraw, crawling back into his dark, emotionless shell. Sherlock glanced around the hollow for a long moment. He pushed Henry aside and then began to climb out of the hollow. I followed Sherlock and Henry followed me. We climbed to the top to find John waiting there for us.

I exhaled. "Thank Heaven you're all right."

"Did you hear that?" John asked.

"We saw it!" Henry said. "We saw it!"

"No." Sherlock stated. "We didn't see anything."

"What are you talking about?" Henry asked.

"I didn't see anything!"

Sherlock's tone told me that he was trying to tell it to himself. At that moment, I realized what was wrong with him. Sherlock doubted himself. He didn't believe whatever it was that he'd have seen and therefore he was assuming that there was something wrong with him.

John looked towards me for an answer. I shot him a look that said I'd talk to him later. Henry looked at me. "What about you? You were standing next to him."

My tone was firm as I repeated Sherlock's exact words. "I didn't see anything." I wasn't lying. I'd seen a perfectly average looking dog.

Sherlock stopped short and studied me. His eyes were running me over, trying to decide if I was lying to him or not. He eventually deduced that I simply wasn't looking at the dog when he saw it. He continued and I bit my lip. I'd seen Sherlock in almost every mood known to Freud. I just wasn't sure, how I could help him this time. Sherlock doubted in himself. He was always confident, right from the moment I met him. Now, I had to help the man I loved find himself again.


	23. 23: Go back to the facts

Chapter Twenty-three: Go back to the facts

* * *

I went up to my room and changed my clothes. I'd been thinking on what to say to Sherlock once I got him alone, but I couldn't think of what to say. I decided I'd just wait and see him, let him speak, and then act on that. I changed into a simple black, knee-length dress and walked down the stairs towards the dining room. I glanced around and spotted John and Sherlock sitting in two seats in front of the huge, roaring fireplace.

After getting a glass of water and confiscating a napkin from the table, I walked towards John and Sherlock. I could tell that John looked concerned and Sherlock had his hands pressed on either side of his head. I could see that his hands were shaking and he was breathing heavily. There was definitely something wrong with him.

"THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH ME! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

I jumped as Sherlock's voice rang out in the dining room. John looked embarrassed but Sherlock seemed oblivious about everyone else in the room. I walked towards Sherlock and John, trying to ignore the curious eyes of everyone. I think several of them wanted to warn me to stay away from Sherlock, considering his attitude, but no one did.

I stood quietly behind Sherlock as he hoarsely began speaking. "You want me to prove it, yes? We're looking for a dog, yes? A great big dog, that's your brilliant theory. _Cherchez le chien_. Good, excellent, yes, where shall we start? How about them?" Sherlock spun in his seat and pointed at a couple at a table behind me. "The sentimental widow and her son, the unemployed fisherman. The answer's yes."

"Yes what?" I asked.

He ignored me. "She's got a West Highland terrier called Whisky. Not exactly what we're looking for."

"Oh, Sherlock," John groaned. "for God's sake."

"Look at the jumper he's wearing. Hardly worn. Clearly he's uncomfortable in it." Sherlock's tone informed that this was going to be a huge deduction. "Maybe it's because of the material; more likely the hideous pattern, suggesting it's a present, probably Christmas. So he wants into his mother's good books. Why? Almost certainly money. He's treating her to a meal but his own portion is small. That means he wants to impress her, but he's trying to economize on his own food."

"Well, maybe he's just not hungry." John advised.

"No, small plate. Starter. He's practically licked it clean. She's nearly finished her Pavlova. If she'd treated him, he'd have had as much as he wanted. He's hungry all right, and not well off, you can tell that by the state of his cuffs and shoes." Sherlock shook his head, imitating John. "How do you know she's his mother?" He glowered at John. "Who else would give him a Christmas present like that? Well, it could be an aunt or an elder sister, but mother's more likely. Now, he was a fisherman. Scarring pattern on his hands, very distinctive, fish hooks. They're all quite old now, which suggests he's been unemployed for some time. Not much industry in this part of the world so he's turned to his widowed mother for help." Again, he imitated John. "Widowed?" His expression began to grow more and more agitated within each passing second. "Yes, obviously. She's got a man's wedding ring on a chain round her neck, clearly her late husband's and too big for her finger. She's well dressed but her jewelry's cheap. She could afford better, but she's kept it, it's sentimental. Now, the dog, tiny little hairs all over the leg from where it gets a little bit too friendly." At this point, Sherlock's emotions were beginning to spiral out of control. His nose wrinkled, his eyes widened and his lips flared out from his mouth. "But no hairs above the knees, suggesting it was a small dog, probably a terrier. In fact it is - a West Highland terrier called Whisky." Once again, he imitated John. "How the hell do you know that, Sherlock?" My fingers were just twitching and I had an uncontrollable urge to smack Sherlock's face. Somehow, maybe it would cause him to calm down, look at things rationally, and bring him back into the real world. "Because she was on the same train as us and I heard her calling its name and that's not cheating, that's listening, I use my senses, John, unlike some people, so you see, I am fine, in fact I've never been better, so just LEAVE ME ALONE!"

At that moment, John decided not to bother with my fire-breathing dragon of a husband. "All right." He said quietly. "Now why would you listen to me? I'm just your friend."

Sherlock laughed cynically before spitting at John. "I don't have friends!"

The hurt on John's face gave me courage to do what I'd been tempted to do since he started spewing out that monologue. I inhaled as I drew my hand back and slapped Sherlock's face. It wasn't a kind slap; it was a hard enough slap to sting my hand. Sherlock grabbed ahold of my wrists tightly and jumped up out of his seat, pulling me up with him. People let out startled gasps around at Sherlock's display of 'violence.' I stood there calmly, I knew Sherlock well enough to know that he'd never harm me.

"Let her go Sherlock." John said firmly. "Now."

I don't look away from Sherlock, I hold his gaze. "I'm fine John, its ok. He's not hurting me."

"I am not leaving you," he said. "until, he's taken his hands off you." Sherlock and I didn't move. We just stood there, looking at each other. Sherlock had a tight grip on my wrists, while my hands hung loose and limp in his grip. John grabbed ahold of Sherlock's wrist. "Sherlock, let her go, or I swear, I will hit you right now." John's words penetrated Sherlock's thick skull and he slowly released me. "Thank you."

"Thank you John, I'm fine. Honest. Go." I placed my hand on Sherlock's shoulder, applying some light pressure. "Come on, sit down. Let's talk."

He did as I asked. "Don't _ever _hit me again." He was seething with anger and fright. "Ever!"

"You hit me once." I reminded him. I sat down on the coffee table, directly in front of him. He glowered darkly at me and I didn't shrink from his touch. "Remember?"

"You were in shock." He snarled. "I am not."

"Aren't you?" I said quietly as I dipped the napkin into my ice cold water.

I reached up and pressed the cloth onto Sherlock's sweaty neck. He jumped and shouted. "GOD! That's cold!"

I roll my eyes. "You've simply overheated. You really should move away from the fire."

"I don't need a nurse." He snaps as I dab his forehead. He grips my wrist and pushes my hand away. "Now leave me alone."

"I will in a moment. I know you well enough to know what's exactly what's going on with you." I leaned forward and rested my hands on his knees. "You're wondering how you could have seen the hound, when it goes against everything you know about yourself. Am I right?"

He exhaled. "Why don't you just go? I need to think."

"Because I'm your wife Sherlock."

He glowered at me. "What are you saying? That has nothing to do with this!"

"It has everything to do with it! Sherlock." I said. "I'm supposed to be here for you when you need me."

"I _don't need _you!" he snapped.

His words hurt, but I had to be strong for him. "If you didn't, then you wouldn't have married me." I lick my lips and inhale deeply. "Back to the case, I did see the hound dog Sherlock." He finally looks at me. "To my eyes, there was nothing abnormal about it."

He snapped. "Then you're blind, Tammy. How could you not see it?"

I exhaled. "I don't know Sherlock. If you and I are looking at one thing and seeing different things, there must be something wrong with one of us. What is it?" I asked him. His eyes narrowed and I could see I'd given his brain the small nudge that it needed. "How is that possible? You know I have perfect vision, and I know you do. The logical assumption is that since there is nothing wrong with our eyes, then there must be something wrong with us. Go back to the facts. Dig deeper Sherlock, I'm sure with your intelligence, that you will find something that all of us missed." Sherlock leaned forward slightly, peering deeply into the fireplace. There was no doubt or fear in his eyes; there was curiosity now. He was thinking hard and I stood up with a smile. "I'll be upstairs."

I walked away from him. I was almost out of hearing distance when I heard Sherlock say. "Sleep well."

I stopped and nodded thoughtfully. "Goodnight."

He didn't respond to me, but what could one say? My hand stung and I rubbed my wrists. I'd hit my husband and he'd grabbed ahold of my wrists in a vice-like grip. For the first time, we'd physically hurt each other intentionally and that made me sick. I walked away from him. He'd said, "Goodnight," to me, but for the life of me I couldn't see what was good about it.


	24. 24: I break so easily

Chapter Twenty-four: I break so easily

* * *

I couldn't sleep. How could I? I tried, but for some reason it just wasn't the same without Sherlock beside me. I got up, slid into my dress and walked down the stairs. The dining room was empty and Sherlock was gone. I walked into the other part of the inn and entered the pub. One of the owners, Gary, was down there, supplying drinks for a few customers.

He smiled at me. "Can I get you something?"

I shook my head. "No thank you." I spied the piano in the corner and moved towards it. "Can I play the piano?"

"No one around here plays the thing. It's just for looks really. Can you play?"

I nodded. "I'm a professional nightclub singer."

"Then what are you doing out here?"

I sat down and pulled the lid up on the piano. "Don't know." I exhaled and shook my head. "I really don't know."

I exhaled and began playing. I was feeling blue and depressed. Music always calmed my soul. My fingers picked out the rarely known song, "I break so easily," recorded by Lisa Richards. In a way, I was mourning about the night that Sherlock and I were supposed to be having. But tonight, we were farther apart than we'd been when Moriarty tried to force us apart.

_Sometimes I feel, like I'm made of glass. Fragile and bare, transparent as air. Don't turn away from me, I break so easily. _I wasn't shy about singing such an intimate song in this strange atmosphere. It was quiet and I was depressed. My mind was full of Sherlock, so I had the right emotions for this song. Tears filled my eyes and I shook them away. _Sometimes I'm like an abandoned child. Lost and alone, longing for a home. Don't turn away from me, I break so easily. _

My fingers flew over the keys.A shadow fell over me and I looked up expecting to see Sherlock. But to my disappointment, it was Robert standing beside me with a pint of what I assumed was beer. I looked down and focused on the piano keys. _My act is my armor. So don't let it fool you, it's keeping me safe from life. You swear that you want me; you swear you won't leave me. A promise is never enough. _

Robert must have sensed the conflict in me, for he placed a hand on my shoulder. I shrugged my shoulder, and he removed his hand from my shoulder._ Sometime I'm just an awkward young girl. Alone at the dance, dreaming of romance. Don't turn away from me, I break so easily. _A tear leaked down my cheek and I shook my head slightly. My voice sounded as if I was struggling against tears, which I was. I paused, giving my emotions a few seconds to adjust. _Sometimes I feel like a delicate rose, who's lost her perfume nevermore to bloom. Don't turn away from me, I break so easily._

My fingers fell from the keys and I put the lid down. "That was lovely lass." Gary said. "Here, have a drink on me. Anything, name your pleasure."

I exhaled. "I'll have some cider, if you've got it."

"Er, will sparkling cider be fine?"

I nodded and stood up. "Yes. Even better." I turned to Robert. "I wouldn't be here if Sherlock shows up. He doesn't like you."

"You've been crying." He said gently. "Are you ok?"

"Just fine." I rub my eyes. "I had my first argument with him tonight."

"And?"

I shifted. "I hit him."

"And what did he do?"

"I don't think that concerns you." I replied. "It's none of your business."

"It becomes any man's business when he sees a woman crying." I rubbed my wrists and he took ahold of my hand. "Tammy." I looked down at my wrists and saw that they were red, turning a light brown. "What happened?"

"Nothing." I hadn't realized that Sherlock had grabbed me so tight.

"He did this to you didn't he?"

I pulled free of Robert's grasp. "It doesn't matter."

"He hurt you."

"He didn't mean it."

"You should report him to the police."

"Stay away from me Robert."

"No, I won't. I've known you for years."

"It doesn't involve you!"

He grabbed me and spun me around. "I dated you for a while. You cannot expect me to let you go like this."

"You have to." I looked up to see John standing there. He looked cold and tired. "As Sherlock pointed out earlier, she's his wife and she's not your girlfriend anymore." John looked at me. "Come on Tammy, I'll take you upstairs."

"All right." I turned to Gary, who was extending my sparkling cider to me. "Thank you."

"Sleep well lassie."

"Thank you." I turned and followed John me up the stairs.

"So, what was that about? Why did he want you to report Sherlock to the police?"

"Oh, Sherlock's grip was tighter than it looks. I'm going to have a light bruise in the morning." John stopped and moved to examine my wrist. "Don't worry Doctor, it doesn't hurt. I really shouldn't have hit him."

"Maybe, but he didn't have to hurt you. And don't you make any excuses for him Tammy. He's your husband and no matter what you do, he should never, ever, raise a hand to you. He can protect himself from your blows, you can't. Besides, this is Sherlock Holmes you're married to; I'm surprised he didn't see your slap coming."

I exhaled. "I don't know where he is. I don't even know what time it is now."

"It's uhm, almost 1:00."

"Good morning."

"What were you doing up?" I asked.

"I saw some Morse code out there and I went out to investigate."

I exhaled. "I hate this case John. There's something…unnatural and evil about it. There's this…cold, unrest in the air. I can feel it."

"It's been a long day." He assured me. "We're all a little off."

"I did see the hound John." He frowned a little bit. "But I just saw an ordinary dog. Nothing terrifying. I wasn't scared. All right, I was scared. But I didn't get scared until I saw Sherlock get scared. I hope you never have to see him when he's really scared John. It's frightening." I changed the subject. "What was the Morse code you saw?"

"It doesn't make sense. It was one word, or I think it's a word. U-M-Q-R-A."

I frowned. "I've never heard of that before. But I will sleep on it John, maybe something will come to me."

"All right." He reached out and awkwardly rubbed my shoulder. "Try to get a good night's sleep, you're overtired. Things will look better in the morning."

I exhaled. "Thank you John. Goodnight."

"Goodnight Tammy."

I opened the door to our room to find Sherlock was in bed, in his pajamas. I could feel his eyes on me as he studied me. "Was that John you were talking to outside?"

"Yes." I set the glass on my nightstand after taking a drink. "He just got back from returning to the hollow."

"What was he doing back there?"

"Someone signaled with a flashlight the word UMQRA, in Morse code, he went back out to investigate."

"I see."

I walked over to the bed, pulling off my dress and I reached for my nightdress. As I pulled the nightdress over my head, I could feel Sherlock blatantly staring at me, but I ignored him. I hung my dress over a chair before getting into the cold bed. I rolled on my side, my back to Sherlock as I pulled the covers up to my chin.

Things were awkward between us. I could practically feel the tension between us. I closed my eyes, as tears leaked down my cheeks. I bit my lip, trying to bear the awkward tension in the air. I felt Sherlock's foot brush mine by accident and my heart caught in my chest.

"Tammy?" I felt his hand on my shoulder and my body trembled. My will power slowly began to crumble under his touch and his velvety voice as he repeated part of our ceremony. "In the 'Art of marriage' the little things are the big things." I felt his lips so close on my ear. "It is never going to sleep angry."

I rolled over onto my side. "Sherlock."

His lips covered mine and I groaned as he applied pressure to my lips. I pulled away and spoke at the same time Sherlock did. "I'm sorry."

I stared at him. Did those words actually leave his lips? I covered my mouth. "Sherlock?"

He nodded. "I'm sorry." he took my hands and looked at my wrists. "I hurt you."

I shook my head. "No I'm sorry. I shouldn't have hit you."

"I'm fine Tammy," he kissed my hand. "you didn't hit me that hard. I think it hurt you more than it hurt me."

"It did Sherlock, I won't hit you again."

"I am curious though, why did you do that?"

"I just wanted you to…stop Sherlock. It…frightened me." He frowned. "I was nervous out there, I wasn't scared, until I saw that you were scared. You, shut John out and you shut me out. I-I wanted to…get your attention. I'd lost you, and I was loosing you. I just…wanted to bring you back Sherlock."

"And you did." He stated. "I just…never felt that way before. I felt doubt. I could always trust my senses, the evidence of my own eyes until last night."

"It's still night."

"It's 1:00 in the morning Tammy. I still can't believe that I saw some kind of monster. You didn't. So the question, for both of us that you proposed is, "How?" How did we see two totally different things?" He pulled me into his side as he rolled onto his back. He thumped his fingers onto my shoulder. "How did I see it?" I yawned and he frowned. "You're tired."

"Sorry."

He rubbed my shoulder. "You've been dragged and flown all around these last few days. You've a right to be tired. Go to sleep."

"Sherlock, I promise I won't hit you ever again."

He rubbed my shoulder. "Go to sleep Tammy."

"Apologize to John."

"Why?"

"Because, you don't have friends Sherlock, you've just got one. And that's John." I reminded him. "Robert was in the club tonight." I felt Sherlock stiffen beside me. "Now, nothing happened, he placed his hand on my shoulder and John chased him off. He's the best friend any man could ever ask for. He's loyal, straightforward, honest and he'd lay down his life for you in a second. You know that."

"I wouldn't say he's the only friend I've got. I've got you."

I smiled as I rested my left hand on his shoulder. "Indeed you do Sherlock." I snuggled close. "I can't wait for John to get married. I wonder what kind of woman she'll be." Sherlock groaned. "Can't you just picture him and his wife bringing their children over for Christmas?"

Sherlock studied me. "Don't you want children?"

I nodded. "Yes. I do."

"Why?"

"Because Sherlock, I figure we owe to the world to start producing children with your brain." He snorted and rolled his eyes. "No. I want children because for me, it's the most beautiful thing in the world."

"You'll be complaining that you're fat."

"And I'll send you out at for all kinds of foods that I happen to have cravings for."

Sherlock groaned. "Pickles dipped in chocolate probably."

"I was actually thinking of strawberries dipped in salsa. Mango ice cream with pickles."

"Don't go counting your pregnancy cravings before you're pregnant."


	25. 25: A cheerful Sherlock

Chapter Twenty-Five: A cheerful Sherlock

* * *

"Rise and shine Tammy." Sherlock said as he pulled covers back from over my head. "Time to get up."

I groaned. "What are you so cheerful about this early in the morning?"

"It's 8:30." He said. "And, we're having breakfast downstairs later. Shower is open if you want it."

I nodded. "Yes," I yawned and stumbled out of bed. "hot water sounds lovely about now."

"You might want to put on something warm, it's a little cool outside."

"Thanks."

I grabbed the pants and sweater I'd worn yesterday and fresh undergarments. Then I stumbled towards the bathroom. I fought back another yawn as I dropped my clothes in a heap on the floor before stepping into the shower. I turned the water on warm and shivered as the warm water flowed over my cold skin. Then, the shower door opened and I turned to see Sherlock had entered the shower behind me.

I tried to look stern, but I was failing miserably. "I should have known you had an ulterior motive."

"Well, you need someone to scrub your back. And, you forgot to grab your washcloth." He held up two washcloths. "See?"

I smiled and reached for their complimentary soap. "That'll be nice. Thanks." I took the washcloth, got mine wet and began to lather it up. I moved so Sherlock could get wet and lather up his washcloth. I began washing down my neck and collarbone, and then I felt Sherlock's hand on my shoulder, his other hand moving slowly down the path of my spine. "Sherlock?" I turned to face him and his arms circled my hips and he lifted me up into his arms. I knew that look in his eyes and I felt my entire body quiver in his arms. "Sherlock. I don't want my hair-

He silenced me with a kiss. I groaned as he backed me up, under the shower spray, getting my hair wet. I groaned in disappointment, but Sherlock took it as a groan of pleasure. He began massaging my wet skin under his hands. "God," he groaned as he slid me slowly down his body. "you feel amazing like this." He began placing those open mouth kisses down my shoulder. "All hot, wet, and slippery."

I smile. "You don't feel so bad yourself."

Sherlock began kissing me eagerly and I parted my lips enough to grant that tongue of his access. Ordinarily, it would have been him initiating a move like that but I was feeling rather bold and minx-like this morning. I slid my hands down his back to his hips and I actually got up enough nerve to give his rear a squeeze. Sherlock jumped as he let out a surprised shout.

I laughed at his confused expression as he shook his head and leaned forward to claim my mouth again. "Damn you, you seductive Riddler."

I felt Sherlock back me up into a corner, aiming the showerhead directly above us. Sherlock nudged my feet apart and I let out a sharp cry as he thrust up into me. I bit my lip, trying to keep the noise down so whoever was next door wouldn't hear us.

"Oh for God's sake Tammy," Sherlock grunted. "stop biting your lip and just let it out!"

Sherlock began moving inside me and I groaned. Oh, my body was such a weak tool whenever it joined with his. I wrapped one of my legs around his hip, allowing him deeper access as I flung my arms around his shoulders. Sherlock kissed me and I felt him smile against my lips. As his movements sped up, I broke the kiss and buried my mouth into his shoulder to try to muffle the sounds but my cries of pleasure filled the bathroom as he moved hard and fast inside me. Sherlock grabbed my arms and pinned them over my head. When Sherlock and I both came together, I would have sunk to the shower floor in pure exhausted pleasure, had he not been holding me up.

He shook his head and exhaled. "You're amazing."

"Thank you." I ran my hand through his wet hair, smiling at him. "I hope nobody heard us."

Sherlock laughed. "Practical Tammy, even when I am making love to you, in a shower, your mind still wanders." He kissed me once and turned the shower spray back to the center of the shower. "Time to go. We have to visit henry."

I groaned. "I didn't even get to soap up."

"No time for that now."

"I wanted a shower."

"You go one." He said as he rolled his eyes. "And a little extra." I leaned against the wall for support and Sherlock frowned at me. "Something wrong?"

I shook my head. "My legs feel like jelly."

He laughed. "I must be doing something right then. Listen," he leaned forward as he hooked his finger under my chin. "we'll finish this tonight, if you're not too tired."

"How about I finish my shower, alone, and we finish this in bed tonight if you're in your right frame of mind tonight?"

"Sold." He stepped aside, opened the shower door and got out. I stepped under the spray as Sherlock's hand snaked out and swatted my rear. I let out a surprised yelp. "And I will collect on it."

I don't know how we made it down stairs without going for a second round. Sherlock dressed faster than I did, so he watched me get dressed, devouring me with those eyes of his. But, we somehow made it down the stairs without any mishap. Sherlock must have solved the mystery, for he was humming Vivaldi's Four Seasons-Spring. He took my hand and swung it back and forth. I shook my head and decided not to say anything to spoil the moment.

We walked up to henry's beautiful house and Sherlock banged on the door. He kissed me quickly before resuming his business face. "You've been forgetting those good luck kisses Mrs. Holmes."

I laughed lightly. "I'm sorry Mr. Holmes. I won't forget again."

Henry opened the door and Sherlock barged in. "Morning!" He grabbed Henry's shoulders and studied his face. "How are you feeling?"

Poor henry looked dazed. "I-I didn't sleep very well." I studied him. He looked terrible, as if he'd stayed awake all night.

"Oh that's a shame." Sherlock sounded a little too cheerful. "How about I make us some coffee?" Now my mouth dropped open in surprise. Sherlock was actually offering to make coffee?! He grinned and pulled out a cocoa packet of his coat pocket. "Brought a cocoa for you too Tammy." He then looked upward. "Oh look, you've got damp!" With that, he trotted off towards the kitchen.

I stared at his vanishing figure. Henry looked at me in shock and looked at me. "What's up with him?"

I shook my head. "I may be married to him, but that doesn't mean I know everything about him. He's never, ever, gone out of his way to make cocoa for me, or coffee for anyone, unless he's got something up his sleeve. So the best thing to do is sit back and enjoy the ride." I heard this clattering and banging so I decided to move towards the kitchen. "We should go before he starts ransacking the kitchen."

Henry frowned. "Why'd you say you didn't see the hound?" he asked me. "You were standing right by Sherlock, looking up. I saw you."

I shrugged. "Because I didn't see anything. I didn't look up soon enough."

Henry and I found Sherlock making coffee in the kitchen. "Listen, last night." Henry asked. Why did you say you hadn't seen anything? I mean I only saw the hound for a minute."

Sherlock down the coffee grounds. "Hound."

Henry blinked in confusion. "What?"

"Why do you call it a hound?" Sherlock asked. "Why a hound?"

Henry frowned. "Why? What do you mean?"

Sherlock stepped closer. "It's odd, isn't it? Strange choice of words. Archaic." My heart nearly burst as I heard him take on his 'deduction' voice. Sherlock was back in business! "It's why I took the case. "Mr. Holmes, they were the footprints of a gigantic hound." Why say "hound?"

Henry shook his head in tired despair. "I don't know."

"Actually I better skip the coffee. Tammy. Come."

I impulsively made the mistake of saluting him. "Yes sir!" he arched a brow at me and I nodded. "Sorry."

He didn't say anything as we turned and walked back down. Sherlock's brow was furrowed and I wisely held my tongue as we walked partway down the hill. As we passed the church, Sherlock stopped and I followed his gaze to see John sitting in the graveyard.

I turned and walked over to a tree and began casually examining it. I watched as Sherlock stared at John. "Go on." I whispered more to myself than him. But he moved and entered the churchyard as the words left my mouth.

I couldn't hear the words that they exchanged. Once they began to walk to the back of the church, I entered the yard and began following them at a distance. I could hear and occasional word or two, but I was trying not to listen to them. At one point, Sherlock grabbed ahold of John's arm and they exchanged words.

Then, John turned and walked away. "Like I said before John," Sherlock called after him. "I don't have friends." He hesitated and I knew that actually saying the next words were difficult for him. "I've just got one."

John paused, turned his head to the side, and looked at Sherlock. "Right." He turned and walked away.

I smiled as Sherlock's face lit up. We both knew John well enough to know that he'd forgiven him. "John! John!" Sherlock then ran after John and I followed him "You are amazing! You are fantastic!"

"Yes, alright." John said. "Don't have to overdo it."

Sherlock continued speaking. "You've never been the most luminous of people, but as a conductor of light you are unbeatable."

"Cheers." John frowned. "What?"

"Some people who aren't geniuses have an amazing ability to stimulate it in others."

I groaned in aggravation. "Hang on, you were saying sorry a minute ago." John said. "Don't spoil it." Sherlock pulled out his little notepad and began writing on it. "Go on. What have I done that's so bloody stimulating?" Sherlock spun around and showed John the notepad. All I saw was the word hound on it. "Yeah?"

"But, what if it's not a word?" he asked he wrote on the pad again. "What if it is individual letters?"

"Think it's an acronym?" John asked.

Sherlock shrugged. "Absolutely no idea," Sherlock frowned and looked inside the pub and anger flashed briefly on his face. He stomped into the pub and snapped. "What the hell are you doing here?"

I followed behind Sherlock to find Lestrade in the pub. "Oh, nice to see you too." He removed his dark sunglasses. "I'm on a holiday, would you believe?"

Sherlock was livid. "No. I wouldn't."

"Then pretend you believe it Sherlock. I for one am happy to see you Greg." I walked up and I hugged Greg. "So nice to see you!"

He hugged me back. "Same here Tammy." He surveyed my appearance. "You look a little tired…but happy. Sherlock been treating you right?"

I nodded. "Yes. He treats me very well."

"I can see that." Greg said as he touched the spot on my neck where Sherlock had bitten me earlier. "Never figured Sherlock for the rough type."

I blushed. "He's actually very gentle with me. We just got a little …enthusiastic this morning."

"Good to know."

Sherlock groaned. "You are _not _actually having this conversation about our sex life with Lestrade are you?"

"Sorry."

Lestrade turned to John. "Hello John."

"Hi Greg."

Sherlock frowned in confusion. Lestrade continued speaking. "I heard you were in the area, what are you up to? You after this hound from Hell like on the telly?"

Sherlock glowered darkly at Lestrade. "I'm waiting for an explanation, Inspector. Why are you here?"

Lestrade repeated. "I told you, I'm on a holiday."

"You're brown as a nut." Sherlock snapped. "You're clearly just back from your holidays."

"Maybe I fancied another one."

Sherlock groaned. "Oh this is Mycroft, isn't it?"

Lestrade sighed. "Now look."

Sherlock cut Lestrade off. "Of course it is! One mention of Baskerville and he sends down my handler to, to spy on me incognito. Is that why you're calling yourself Greg?"

I laughed as John frowned at Sherlock. "That's his name."

Sherlock looked stunned. "Is it?"

"Yes." Lestrade nodded. "You never bothered to find out."

Sherlock looked towards me. "Is that the Greg you were talking to after I proposed to you?"

"Yes!"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought you figured it out!"

"I didn't say I did!"

"Because you say it best when you say nothing at all! And you never asked me!"

"Oh stop quoting corny lyrics Tammy. Life isn't a musical!"

"And life isn't an experiment. And this song isn't from a musical!"

"Children." Lestrade said, slipping into a father role. "Calm down. Look, I'm not your handler and I don't always do what your brother tells me."

"Actually," John said. "you could be just the man we want."

Sherlock shot John a look of indignation. "Why?"

"Well, I've not been idle Sherlock." John reached into his pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. "In fact, I think I might have found something. Didn't think it was relevant, but it's starting to look like it might be." He handed Sherlock the slip. "Now, that is an awful lot of meat for a vegetarian restaurant."

"Excellent."

"A nice, scary, inspector from Scotland Yard who could put in a few calls might come in very handy."

"Right." I said. "I'm heading up to my room for a bit."

"Aren't you coming with us?" Sherlock asked.

I shook my head. "No, I can't stand seeing vegetarians being eaten alive."

"So, what are you going to do?"

"I figured, I'd try to go take a shower. I haven't had one in a week. Then I'll call Mrs. Hudson and see how she's doing."

"You had one this morning." Sherlock reminded me.

"Without soap!" I said. "Not much good."

Lestrade touched my neck. "I'm assuming that's when you got...this then.

"Correct and if I want a shower, I better do it when he's out of reach. Then, I'll come and find you guys. I'm assuming you're around here. If not, I'll text you and find you."

Sherlock studies me. "Unless I find you first."

"You all ready know where I am. Now, behave." I kissed his cheek and walked away. "See you later."

"Catch…you…later." Sherlock said slowly as I walked away from him. I smiled, feeling his eyes on me; I swung my hips a little more for his benefit. "Certainly catching you later."

"Jeez, Sherlock," John said. "do you mind?"

"What?"

" You're practically drooling."

"I am not!" He said indignantly.

"Then screw your eyes back in your head." John said.

"Stop arguing." I stopped and turned slowly around on my heel to face the glowering men. "Sherlock, oggle me all you want." He grinned triumphantly. "John and Lestrade, ignore him! That way, we'll all get along fine!"


	26. 26: Tasting an apology

Chapter Twenty-Six: Tasting an apology

* * *

An hour later, Sherlock, John and I found ourselves at Baskerville again. Somehow, Sherlock had managed to sweet talk Mycroft into letting him have a full 24 hours of access to solve this case. I don't know how he managed that, but he did. Sherlock was then in a heated discussion with Major Barrymore. I waited patiently outside the door, finishing up my thermos of hot coca that Sherlock had prepared for me. It tasted a little sweeter than normal, but good. When Sherlock went to exit the room, the Major's gruff voice exited the open door.

"I don't know what the hell you expect to find out here anyway."

"Perhaps the truth." Sherlock said as he leaned on the doorknob.

"About what?" Sherlock shot him a knowing look. "Oh I see. The big coat should have told me. You're one of the conspiracy lot aren't you?" I couldn't see Sherlock's face, but I could just imagine him rolling his eyes in boredom. "Well now, go ahead, seek them out. The monsters. The death rays. The aliens."

"Have you got any of those?" Sherlock asked so casually innocently. "Oh just wondering."

"A couple of them crash landed here in the 60's. We call them Abbott and Costello."

I spoke up. "Actually, you must mean Martin and Lewis, though they were really from the 50's." Sherlock turned and smiled at me. "Abbot and Costello dominated the screen during the late 30's and early 40's."

The Major jerked his head at me. "Who is this?"

"My wife." He walked up to me and took hold of my elbow. "And don't get her upset Major, it's liable to be a messy thing. Look," he said snapping his fingers at a Corporal. "why don't you go and join John in the lab? I'll be down there directly."

"Ok." I added for good measure. "try not to get mixed up with too many people who can't tell the difference between comedy teams."

"Right. Go on then."

As I walked away the major asked. "And what does she do exactly?"

"Oh, back to business major."

I followed the Corporal to the elevator. He was stiff and quiet, I wondered if this was how prisoners felt in prison. We exited on a certain floor and I found John there. Once I was with John the corporal left me with him.

"Hello Tammy."

"Hello John. Sherlock kicked you down here with me?"

I nodded. "Yeah. He's onto a different angle."

John and I walked around the lab, observing everything. I frowned as everyone disappeared and the lights dimmed. I stuck close to John, feeling a little ill at ease. "Nervous?"

"A little." I admitted. "There's….no around except us."

He nodded. "Odd, isn't it? Maybe they're going on lunch break."

"All of them? At the same time?"

John swiped his card and we went through the next door. "Being married to Sherlock is rubbing off on you isn't it?"

"A little."

Words weren't spoken as we poked around the rooms. So far, we didn't anything obvious. Then, we went back into the first room we'd entered a huge, bright, blinding white light filled the room. I jumped and covered my eyes. I only opened them once this huge blaring sound went off. John was startled for a moment, but the military in him jumped into gear. He grabbed my hand and dragged me towards the exit. He swiped his card and his access was denied. He tried it three more times and it failed. Then, the lights went out and everything went silent.

"Great." I said as I rubbed my aching ears.

"I brought a flashlight." He said as he reached into his pocket. "Here."

"Thank goodness." He turned it on and began to aim it around the room. "Hello?"

We walked slowly around the room, listening carefully. John began throwing the tarps back on some of the cages. In one of them, a monkey jumped at the cage bars at us, scaring us to death. I let out a small shriek as I backed away from the monkey. "Whoa! This is like a spook house!"

Then, we saw a cage, which had bars bent back, as if an animal had broken through. My first thought was the hound, but I pushed that thought out of my mind. It'd be impossible for it to get into the lab without being detected and then get back out onto the moors. John went to try another door and I followed him. Again, the card was rejected.

I groaned as John pulled out his phone and dialed Sherlock. Sherlock didn't pick up. John swore lightly under his breath. "He's not answering." I heard the sound of running feet and John grabbed my hand. "Shh."

Something didn't feel right. John scurried to the opposite direction of the sound and I followed him as silently as my boots allowed it. We went up to the other door and before John could try it, that's when I heard a dog growl.

John and I both froze and we glanced at each other. Both of us began to panic. I was afraid of dogs to begin with. This one didn't sound friendly and we were trapped in a lab with it. John grabbed my hand dragged me back towards the cages.

"Inside." He hissed. He let me in first and then got in, slamming the door behind me. On cue, his phone rang and he answered it. I closed my eyes, concentrated on breathing, refusing to have a panic attack. "It's in here." John breathed into the phone. "It's in here with me."

_Where are you?_ relief washed over me as I heard Sherlock's calm voice through the phone.

"It's a big lab. The first lab that we saw."

_Is Tammy with you?_

"Yes." The dog growled again and I jumped. Cage or not, I was still nervous about being trapped in here with a possibly rabid dog.

_John? John?_

"Sherlock, please, you've got to get us out of here." I looked at John and again, I saw fear in his eyes, like I'd seen in Sherlock's the night before. I touched his shoulder gently and he jumped.

_All right I'll find you, keep talking._

"I can't it'll hear me."

_Keep talking. What are you seeing_? I coughed. _Tammy? Can you hear me? Are you seeing anything?_

"No." I breathed. "But I can hear it. I'm not in a good place to see anything."

_John?_ Sherlock asked. _What can you see?_

"I don't know." John said as he leaned forward to peer through the material. "But I can hear it. Did you hear that?"

_Stay calm. Stay calm. Can you see it?_

John shook his head. "No."

I crept towards the tarp, lifted it up and peered outside. I didn't see anything either way. The growls and snarls drew closer to the cage. I dropped the tarp and crept back into my corner. I covered my mouth to keep from screaming. I didn't see the dog, but I could hear it. I was picking up on John's anxiety and that was throwing my emotions out of control.

John slowly drew back, his face was pale, and I could see that in the light of his phone. "I can see it." a huge shadow crossed in front of the cage and my heart flew up in my throat. "I can see it." I started breathing heavily. The tension in the room was too much for me. "It's here."

Suddenly, the tarp flew back, the lights went on and I screamed in terror, which became a cry of relief, when I saw Sherlock standing there! He pulled the cage door back and knelt down beside John. "Are you all right John?"

"Jesus Christ," John bolted out of the cage as if he'd been shot out of it. "it was the hound." I couldn't see John anymore, but I could hear the panic in his voice. "Sherlock it was here. It was here I swear it!"

But Sherlock at this moment was more focused on me. "Tammy?" he grabbed ahold of my hand and pulled me up and out of the cage. "Are you all right?"

"Yes!" I coughed as I grabbed ahold of his shoulders and hugged him tightly. Sherlock indulged me by holding me tightly in his arms.

"It's all right." He murmured reassuringly. "It's all right now, you're safe. I've got you."

Sherlock tilted my chin up towards his and he kissed me. I kissed him eagerly, relishing the security I felt with him. But, there was something wrong with this kiss. I tasted…an apology on his lips. I pulled back and frowned at him. Why did I taste an apology? "Sherlock?"

"Did you see it?" John's outburst distracted both of us. "You must have!"

Sherlock released me and walked over to John. I sagged against the cage in relief. "It's ok."

"No, it's not!" John shouted hysterically, reminding me of an angry little dwarf or hobbit. Hobbit more likely. "It's not okay! I saw it, I was wrong!"

Sherlock shrugged. "Let's not jump to conclusions."

John and I stared at him in wonder. "What?"

"What did you see?"

"I told you, I saw the hound."

"Beside the fact that Tammy insists that she saw nothing, you tell me what you saw? Huge, red eyes?"

"Yes."

"Glowing?"

"Yeah."

"No."

John looked positively baffled. "What?"

"I made up the bit about glowing. You saw what you expected to see because I told you. You have been drugged. We have all been drugged." He paused and frowned. "Except for Tammy."

"What?" I frowned. "Why am I not drugged?"

"I don't know. I thought it was in the sugar! It had to be. You don't drink coffee and John doesn't have sugar in his." He began that frantic pacing up and down the lab. "This makes no sense!" he snapped. "You and John both drank drinks I prepared for you with the sugar. He showed signs of being drugged, you didn't. You were just scared." Sherlock grabbed ahold of my shoulders. "What kind of immunity do you have Tammy? What is it? What is that you have that we don't have? You eat the same food. Drink the same water. Breathe the same air."

"No, I don't."

"Yes you do!"

"Sherlock, my allergies remember? On Dewar's Hollow, John given me a surgeon's mask, thinking it would help ease my coughing. It did. I didn't cough once."

Sherlock's fingers dug into my shoulders. "I didn't see you wearing it!"

"I wore it under my scarf."

Sherlock's eyes flashed and his eyes lit up. He clapped his hands in delight. "Of course." His eyes lit up. "Right! I need access to a computer, now! Can the two of you walk?"

John nodded. "Yeah."

"I-I need a minute." I said. "My legs feel like jelly."

"Can't wait that long." Sherlock picked me up and moved towards the closed door. He then kissed me with a great big smack that resonated in the empty room. "I'd be lost without my Riddler."

"I do not understand this or you at this moment." My mind was reeling, so I wasn't completely concentrating. I had a hunch that something obvious had happened to me and I'd just missed out on it.


	27. 27: Project HOUND

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Project H.O.U.N.D

* * *

Sherlock was in top form this evening. He blackmailed Dr. Stapleton into giving him her full cooperation. Then, he went into his 'mind palace' as he called it for about a half-hour. John and Dr. Stapleton left the room and I sat there and watched him as he searched his mind for any bit of information he'd missed. He must have found it, because he came out of the palace with a satisfied smirk.

He then hacked into restricted CIA files of the computer by simply observing Major Barrymore's office. That's when the horror's began to unfold as we began viewing Project H.O.U.N.D. Tears burned my eyes as I saw photographic evidence of the results of that test. The drug was extremely powerful and had caused much harm to so many people. My stomach couldn't take much and I turned aside.

"Jesus." John breathed in horror.

"Project H.O.U.N.D." And for once, Sherlock didn't sound totally excited about having made a new discovery that would close the case. "A new delirium drug, which rendered its users, incredibly suggestible. They wanted to use it as an anti-personnel weapon to totally disorientate the enemy using fear and stimulus. They shut it down and hit it away in 1986."

"Because of what it did to the subjects they tested it on." Dr. Stapleton said quietly.

"And what they did to others." Sherlock said. "Prolonged exposure drove them insane. Made them almost uncontrollably aggressive."

"So someone's been doing it again?" John asked. "Carrying on the experiments?"

"Attempting to refine them perhaps, for the last 20 years."

"Who?" Dr. Stapleton questioned her curiosity now peaked.

"Those names mean anything to you?" John asked her.

"No. Not a thing."

"Five principal scientists. 20 years ago."

A door opened and all our heads whipped around to observe Robert walking in the room. He frowned. "What's…going on here?"

"Don't worry." I said. "We've got full permission and authority to be here."

"Maybe, somebody who says cellphone because of time spent in America." Sherlock stated. "You remember, John? Gave us his number in case we needed him?"

"Who?" Robert and I asked in unison.

"Oh my God," Dr. Stapleton said. "Bob Franklyn."

"What?" Robert asked. "That's impossible."

"But Bob doesn't even work on, I mean, he's a virologist. This is chemical warfare."

"That's where he started though." Sherlock pointed out. "And he's never lost the certainty, the obsession that the drug really could work. Nice of him to give us his number." Sherlock pulled the number out of his pocket. "Let's arrange a little meeting."

"He won't answer it." Robert stated.

Sherlock glowered at him. "And how would you know?"

"He's conducting a private experiment at home. His phone is off by now."

"And you know such intimate details about him because?"

"I'm his assistant." Robert stated. John's phone went off and he stepped away from us to answer it.

Sherlock's eyes flashed. "Good. Tammy, wave your magic wand and persuade Franklyn's assistant to come with us."

"I'll _ask_ him." I glowered. "I don't cast spells."

"What?" The concern in John's voice caused everyone to look at him. "Where are you? Right, stay there. We'll get someone to you, ok?"

"Henry?" Sherlock stated.

"He's attacked Louise and he took off."

Sherlock nodded. "There's only one place he'll go to," he pulled out his phone. "back where it all started." He spoke into the phone. "Lestrade, get to the Hollow. Dewar's Hollow now! And bring a gun!" Sherlock grabbed my hand. "Let's go! He's had a head start on us!"

"I'm coming too!" Robert shouted.

"Fine!" Sherlock shouted. "Do keep up though!"

We ran out using the fire exits, which set off the fire alarms and threw the whole base into a panic. Robert was shouting at Sherlock, Sherlock was ignoring him, and John and I ran behind them in silence. Robert and I piled into the back seat, John just closed the door on the front and Sherlock stepped on the gas and drove out of the base like a maniac.

The woods of Dewar's hollow loomed up like a foreboding, haunted house in the mists. Sherlock didn't even turn the car off as he jumped out of it. Robert and I slammed the doors upon exiting.

Sherlock grabbed my arm and pulled. "Come on!"

"Take it easy on her!" Robert shouted at Sherlock.

"Later!" I said. "There's a life at stake!"

We ran towards the Hollow. My scarf fell off my neck, but I didn't stop to get it. Henry was in danger and I hoped and prayed that we weren't too late. Sherlock found the spot and not a moment too soon. For there was Henry, kneeling on the ground, with a gun in his mouth.

"No! Henry! No!" Sherlock shouted.

"Henry! Don't!" I called. "Stop!"

"Get back!" He shouted. "Get back, get away from me!"

"Easy, Henry, easy." John said in his soothing doctor's voice. "Just relax."

"I know what I am." Henry cried out. "I know what I tried to do!"

"Just put the gun down, it's ok."

"No, no, I know what I am!"

"Yes, I'm sure you do, Henry." Sherlock said calmly. "It's all been explained to you, hasn't it? Explained very carefully."

"What?" Something in Sherlock's tone had him curious.

Robert laid a hand on my shoulder and he attempted to draw me back. "Don't touch me." I hissed.

"He could shoot you."

"Henry won't hurt me."

"At least step back a little."

"Someone needed to keep you quiet. Needed to keep you as a child to reassert the dream that you both clung onto, because you had started to remember." Sherlock began to inch forward slowly. "Remember now, Henry. You've got to remember. What happened here when you were a little boy?"

"I thought, it had my dad." Henry was still pointing the gun at Sherlock, and I was hoping that the gun wouldn't go off. "The hound, I thought that." He broke off with a cry. "Oh, Jesus. I don't know anymore! I don't!" Henry opened his mouth and again pointed the gun into his mouth.

"No! Henry!" John shouted.

"Henry don't!" I shouted. "Don't! You need to listen!"

"Henry, remember, "Liberty In" two words. Two words, a frightened little boy saw here 20 years ago." Slowly, Henry began to lower the gun. "You'd started to piece things together, remember what really happened here that night. It wasn't an animal, was it, Henry?" Henry looked up at Sherlock in dazed confusion. "Not a monster. A man." I watched Henry, as daylight broke in his tortured soul. He finally, began to understand the nightmare that had been torturing him for 20 years. "You couldn't cope, you were just a child. So you rationalized it into something very different. Then you started to remember, so you had to be stopped. Driven out of your mind so that no one would believe a word that you said."

"Sherlock?" I spun around to find Lestrade walking towards us.

John had approached Henry and had taken the gun from him. "It's ok. It's ok mate." He reassured him.

"But, we saw it." Henry said. "The hound, last night. We did."

Robert snorted. "There is no hound."

"Shut up." I said.

"Yes, there was a dog Henry, leaving footprints, scaring witnesses," Sherlock reassured him. "But it was nothing more than an ordinary dog. We both saw it, saw it as our drugged minds wanted us to see it. Fear and stimulus, that's how it works. If you think about it that would explain why my wife, who's admitted that she's afraid of dogs, remained deathly calm during that whole ordeal." I smiled. "And what woman, in their right mind, wouldn't start screaming if she'd seen what we'd both seen? There never was any monsters."

At that moment, a dog howled loudly and all heads shot up above us. I heard growling and took a few steps away from Sherlock. "Sherlock?" I spun around and looked towards John.

Henry began shrieking "No." a thousand times and Sherlock attempted to calm him down.

"Are you seeing this?" John asked, shining his light in Lestrade's face. Lestrade was shocked and he could only nod at John. Robert was shocked as well. "And they aren't drugged Sherlock. So what is that?" I couldn't really see a dog, but only an outline of its back. "What is it?" John shouted.

"All right," Sherlock said. "it's still here." He mumbled to himself. "Guess they didn't put it down after all." He repeated in a loud, firm tone. "But it's just a just a dog, Henry! It's nothing more than an ordinary dog!"

"My God!" Lestrade shouted. The dog finally came into sight for me and I let out a scream. It was huge! It was a big, muscular dog and its eyes did glow red! It looked sick. "Ah, Christ!"

For the longest time all I could do was stare at the snarling dog in pure shock. Then I heard Sherlock behind me shouting. "No! Not you! Not here!" I turned to see him wrestling with Dr. Franklyn. "The fog! The drug is in the fog! Aerosol dispense, that's what it said in those records. Project H.O.U.N.D. it's the fog, a chemical mine field!"

"For God's sake kill it," Dr. Franklyn shouted. "kill it!"

Lestrade took a few shots at the dog, missing it. The dog leaped off the hill, headed straight at me! I screamed as this monstrous creature flew at me. I heard John shooting at the dog; with Henry's gun and one of their bullets hit the monstrous dog for its body grew limp. I screamed as I flew backwards onto the ground with the dog ontop of me.

"Tammy!" Sherlock shouted. I lay there screaming with this huge, dead dog, pinning me to the ground. Blood was streaming out of the dead dog's mouth on my face. I felt as if I was going to vomit as I wiped the blood off my face. Robert reached me first and he rolled the dog off me. My breathing was skyrocketing out of control.

"Tammy." Robert looked to the others. "She's hurt!"

"God." Lestrade said. "Is she shot?"

"No! But she's not breathing too well."

"She has asthma!" Sherlock reached me and I grabbed ahold of his hand. "Calm down." I wanted to. I really did. But I couldn't. Every breath that I drew attempted to smother me. I couldn't breathe. My head began to ache and my chest began to hurt me. Sherlock's eyes grew concerned. "John, come here. Lestrade, don't let Franklyn leave. If he attempts to leave, shoot him."

John knelt beside me and began taking my pulse. His eyes grew concerned and I felt a hand on my forehead. I jumped. "She's sweating profusely, but her body is ice-cold."

Sherlock asked. "Where's your scarf?" I tried to speak, but I couldn't. Sherlock took off his scarf and wrapped it around my neck. He wrapped it over my mouth, trying to help me breathe warmer air. He shouted at Robert. "Run back to the car, and get her purse, now!"

"We've got to get her to a hospital. Now!" I gasped for air; my grip on Sherlock grew tighter. John was now in complete control of the situation. "Robert, call for help."

"What's going on?" Sherlock demanded. "Tammy. Relax."

"The fog." John said. "She must be having an allergic reaction to a drug in the fog! The cold air and the trauma she's endured aren't helping her condition any."

My lungs burned and I grabbed onto my throat, as if I could will myself to force my breathing to continue. Sherlock let go of my hand and he ran somewhere. I sat up, gasping for him to return to me, but I couldn't hear anymore. My hearing had left me and all I could hear was buzzing. John and Robert laid me back on the ground and I could see their lips moving but I couldn't hear anything. Sherlock returned to place a gas mask over my head, but I could barely breathe now. My lungs closed off my throat and I couldn't breathe. I grabbed onto Sherlock as my vision blurred and my head swam. I remembered feeling Sherlock ripping the gas mask off my head and his lips on my mouth before slipping into a dark and silent world.


	28. 28: Dearest and Darling

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Dearest and darling

* * *

I ached. My lungs burned. My head was throbbing. My throat was ice-cold. My eyes were heavy, but I forced them to open. I turned my head slowly and took in my surroundings. I was in a hospital and there was hand on mine and another hand was across my chest. I turned my aching neck to see that the hand belonged to Sherlock. He was in a chair and he was asleep, still holding onto me. I lifted my hand and let it fall on his head, massaging his curls.

Sherlock's head shot up instantly, so he must not have been sleeping. "Tammy!" Oh dear God, he looked horrible. His eyes were bloodshot, his clothes were wrinkled and I don't think he'd left that chair since I was brought here however long ago.

"How's….Henry?" I croaked.

Sherlock sat on the edge of the bed with a glass of water. "Forget Henry, he's fine. Drink." I nodded and sipped the water slowly. Sherlock's hands were shaking slightly. "You scared me."

I motioned for him to take the water away. "What…happened?"

"You had an allergic reaction to a drug in the fog. Do you remember?" I nodded. Sherlock grabbed my hands tightly. "You scared me."

"Sorry." I croaked. "I didn't mean to. Sherlock," He kissed my hand, refusing to let it go. I shook my head as he began trailing kisses down towards my elbow. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I could have lost you." He said. "I almost did."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"See that you don't!" His tone changed to a gentle snap. "How could I have solved that case without your ridiculous asthma?"

The door opened and I looked up to see John there. He looked tired, but Sherlock looked like Hell. John hurried into the room. "Thank goodness, you're conscious." He began to take my pulse. "Don't you be exciting her Sherlock!"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Does that mean I can't touch her?"

"Touching is fine."

Sherlock muttered in my ear. "How little he knows."

I nodded. "Indeed."

"Tammy, how are you feeling?"

"Tired, heavy and sore doctor. But overall, fine."

"You almost weren't." John said. "Sherlock had to help us find the antidote. He hasn't left your side since you had that attack." I felt Sherlock's lip against my hand. "You need to rest. I think, you can go home in two days." John patted Sherlock's shoulder. "Come on. You need to leave." Sherlock shook his head and stubbornly crawled up onto my cot. I wiggled over a little bit, giving him some space. "Sherlock, you can't."

"Please John? I want him here with me." I asked as I brought my arm up so that it rested on his head. I relaxed as he lay on his side, his arms draped around my waist. Sherlock let out a heavy sigh. "I'll make sure he behaves."

John hesitated. "I hope you can. He's been shouting at the nurses and me these last two days."

My eyes widened. "Two days? Has he slept?"

"No."

I ran my hand through his hair, looking into those tired eyes of Sherlock's. "Then as a doctor, you must prescribe bed rest for him. We'll both sleep."

John frowned. "I can't guarantee anything."

"Just ask Mycroft." Sherlock said. "Now get out of here. I want to spend some time with my wife."

"Thank you John." I said. "Thank you, for saving my life."

John shrugged modestly. "Sherlock found the antidote."

"I can thank my husband personally, anytime I wish. This is your moment, don't bring Sherlock into it." I said gently and firmly. "Sherlock didn't keep me alive until we found the antidote, _you _did. Thank you."

I'd rendered John speechless. He nodded at me and looked down. "Thank you."

With that, John turned and left the room. Sherlock took my chin and made me look at him. "All right, John's had his moment. When do I get mine?"

"As soon as I'm out of the hospital, then I'm yours completely." I kissed him deeply, and I felt Sherlock's hands on the sides of my neck.

"God," he murmured. "you know that you're the best kisser? Who'd you practice on when you had to perfect them to make them right?"

I ran my hand down his face. "You're my husband, my divine inspiration. If my kisses are so right, it's because I've had you to practice on, no one else. I never really kissed Robert, now I know he was marrying me for my money, I can see why we only kissed about five or less times. After that...it's only been you."

* * *

_The following afternoon,_

* * *

"Do a little counting and then imagine what a bitch of humour-

"Sherlock!"

"Hey, I'm just reading the book." He handed the book of love letters to me. "Alexander Pushkin to his fiancée, in 1830. See? His words, not mine."

I smiled and caressed his face. "I'm sorry. You seemed to be in a little bit of a mood." He crossed his arms and I smiled. "I guess you really are in a….bitch of humor aren't you?"

Sherlock groaned. "I want to take you home."

I nodded. "I want to go home too."

He sat down on the edge of my bed. "Then come home with me."

I hesitated. Sherlock practically convinced me with a single look. "What would John say?"

"He wouldn't know." He gripped my hand. "You're simply resting at this point and there's no reason why you can't do that at home. I can carry you, so that way you won't exert yourself."

I was weakening to his words. "Sherlock, it does sound nice." He kissed me and I nodded. "Take me home."

"Right!" Sherlock helped me sit up in bed and he removed my hospital dress.

I laughed as he reached into his laptop case, furnishing a dress for me. "Did you have this planned?" He tugged the dress over my head.

"No." He put a pair of slippers on my feet. "Put your arms around my neck and let's get out of here."

"Can we go to Angelo's for dinner?" I begged. "I want real food. I'm craving his breadsticks!"

"You'll get fat on those breadsticks of his." My stomach rumbled and Sherlock laughed. "You're hungry now. How about we go to lunch at Angelo's?"

"Oh yes!" I kissed him. "Please! Please! Please! Please can we go?"

"All right."

I imitated Sherlock and snapped at him. "A rabbit John!"

Sherlock laughed. "You're crazy. Now, quiet please, so that way we can make a clean get away."

I nodded and smirked. The moment we made it out of my room, everyone around us errupted in a flurry. Sherlock took off running and we made it outside with a mob behind us. Sherlock and I both flagged down at taxi and he helped me inside. "Take off driver!"

"Right." He said. "That's quite a crowd. Did you two just get married?"

I blushed and laughed. I was in a white dress that could pass for a wedding dress, of sorts. "Hospital actually."

"Yeah." Sherlock groaned. "Couldn't get them to release her early, so I kidnapped her."

I kissed him. "Thank you. Now, I'm hungry!"

"I know that." He reached into his pocket and handed me my inhaler. "Inhale and calm down." I nodded and did as he asked. Then Sherlock's phone went off. He groaned and turned it on speaker. "Make it fast John."

_What the hell do you think you're doing?_ He shouted angrily. _Tammy needs to be in the hospital._

"John, I'm fine."

_No you're not! You are not ok! You suffered a severe and traumatic time. You need to be back here recuperating!_

"She seems fine to me." The taxi driver said. "Looks very happy too."

"Thank you."

_Who's that?_

"The taxi driver."

John groaned. _A taxi driver is not a qualified physician. I am. Now bring her back!_

"I've got Sherlock with me," I said. "I'll be fine."

_No you won't. You shouldn't even be walking!_

"I'm not! Sherlock's carrying me."

_All around London?_ John didn't sound convinced. _Tammy, this is Sherlock Holmes we're talking about, remember? Where are you two going?_

"Sherlock's taking me home."

_Fine. I'll be waiting to take you back._

"But John," I whined.

"Look," Sherlock said. "it's Tammy's birthday and she deserves to not spend it in a hospital."

I stared at him. "You knew? Sherlock!"

"I'm not that stupid. I snuck a look when you signed our marriage certificate."

"Oh, I love you."

_I am still on the phone!_ John reminded us. _Birthday or not, I will see you at Baker Street in ten minutes and you will be there._

"Yes doctor." I pouted. "I promise, we'll meet you there." Sherlock shut off the phone and I added. "I didn't say what time I'd see him there though. So our time schedule is really flexible."

Sherlock laughed. "You're really taking after me dearest." I covered my mouth and Sherlock tilted his head to the side. "What? Don't like 'Dearest,' I can change it if you'd like?"

"No, I like it…darling."

Sherlock groaned. "This is ridiculously sentimental," I arched a brow at him and he smiled a little and pulled me close. "but I could live with it. As long as it's only you who calls me that."


	29. 29: My birthday

Chapter Twenty-Nine: My Birthday

* * *

Sherlock, true to his word, did carry me around. He paid the taxi man, came around to my side of the door and lifted me out of the taxi. "If John could see me now, he wouldn't believe it."

"I'm in your arms and I'm still not believing it."

"Open the door." Sherlock ordered.

"Right." I felt a little ill at ease when we came into the restaurant and all eyes went towards us. Sherlock glanced around and stalked towards the nearest table and set me down.

Angelo bustled over clapping his hands. "Welcome!" He hugged me. "So, how are things with you two? I hope you had a delightful honeymoon."

I laughed. "It lasted four days."

"Why is everyone so interested in our honeymoon?" Sherlock asked as he sat down beside me.

"I think it has something to you and your rather cold stance."

Sherlock gave a curt nod. "Angelo, Tammy's been craving your breadsticks."

I clapped my hands. "And lots of tomato sauce!"

Angelo chuckled. "All right."

"I've been dreaming of those all last night."

Angelo's eyes widened. "You're not pregnant are you?"

"NO!" Sherlock and I chimed at the same time.

Angelo shrugged. "She could be. After all Sherlock, it's a natural thing."

"We waited until we were married to have sex. She's been in the hospital." Sherlock explained. "You know what that their 'food' is like."

Angelo was immediately concerned. He turned to me. "Are you all right?"

"Yes. I just had an allergic reaction."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Angelo nodded sympathetically. "I'll go get something to make you forget that hospital food."

And Angelo did. His breadsticks were out of this world. Sherlock wasn't hungry, but he took a few bites, so I wasn't eating alone. He watched me like a hawk and made sure I ate slow enough and chewed the food thoroughly. I took my pain medication, even though I really didn't need it. I felt sluggish, but nothing hurt. Angelo's food almost instantly returned all my strength.

Sherlock played with my left hand the entire time I ate. "Your color looks better." He observed. "Your eyes are back to their sparkling self."

I turned and propped my face up on my chin. "Thanks to you."

Sherlock leaned forward and went to kiss me, and then his phone rang. I groaned, expecting him to answer his phone, but he didn't. Sherlock kissed me and I smiled, he'd chosen the phone over me. I pulled away though. "You should answer your phone. It might be important."

He pulled it out of his pocket and answered it. "Hello?"

_Sherlock? _It was Lestrade. _Look, I'm sorry to bother you; I know you're with Tammy at the hospital. But we've got a problem down here._

"Sorry," he said. "I can't make it."

"Sherlock!" I took the phone from Sherlock. "Greg? This is Tammy."

_Tammy! Oh dear God, are you all right?_

"I'm all right; Sherlock is actually taking me out to lunch."

I heard Greg release an expletive as he dropped his phone in surprise. _What are you doing out of the hospital?!_

Sherlock took the phone back from me. "She's fine. What's up?"

_Sherlock!_

"You're interrupting our lunch date. Please state your business or I'm hanging up."

I smiled at Sherlock's reference to our being on a lunch date. _Someone's just stolen the famous painting, 'Falls of the Reichenbach,' and we need you down here. The museum owners have asked for you personally._

I gasped. "Oh my gosh." I laid a hand on his arm. "You must go down immediately."

Sherlock frowned. "I'll be down in an hour."

I grabbed the phone from Sherlock. "We'll be down now Greg. Goodbye."

I hung up and Sherlock glowered at me. "_We_? What do you mean _we_? There is no _we_! You're not going _anywhere_!"

"Come on!"

"No!" I stood up and my legs buckled. Sherlock caught a hold of me."See, you can't even walk!"

"Shut up and let's get down to the crime scene." I gripped ahold of his arm. "Help me."

"Tammy." Sherlock argued as he wrapped an arm around my waist and lifted me up. "We can't afford-

"To waste time dropping me off, settling me into bed comfortably, making sure I have everything I need!" I commented. "Now, the trail could get cold or Andersen could ruin something!" I knew I'd won that battle. "Now, let's go!"

"All right." He said. "But I am finding you a chair once we get there!"

"Yes. It's an art museum Sherlock; there are obviously dozens of places for me to sit!"

* * *

Sherlock walked through the sea of curious eyes, still holding onto me, without even blinking. I couldn't tell if he was embarrassed to be holding me, or if he was enjoying the fact that by merely holding me, he was creating a spectacle.

Sally, of course, was standing at the entrance. Her brows rose. "Why you carrying her?"

I shrugged. "I had an accident a few days ago and I haven't quite recovered my strength yet."

Sherlock followed Sally into the main exhibit. There were plenty of cushioned chairs and set me down in one. "Sally, if it's not too much of a bother, keep an eye on her while I'm scouting the area."

Sally frowned. "You're asking me to watch her?"

"I believe he did Sally." I said. "Now, where's Greg?"

On cue, Greg shouted. "What the Hell is she doing here? Sherlock! She should be in the hospital!"

"Greg," I said as I stood up. Sherlock balanced me as I hugged Greg. "I'm only here because I had an argument with Sherlock, which he lost. I've beaten the unbeatable, so don't cross me. I'm just going to sit down somewhere around here." I patted Sherlock's shoulder as he guided me back down into the chair. "Now, go ahead and have fun. Don't worry about me, Sally will keep me company."

Sherlock shook his head, but he did as I asked. Sally stood beside me and studied me. "Can I get you anything? A pillow, something to drink?"

"I'd hate to put you out."

"No bother. Lestrade was quite upset when you were in the hospital. He didn't give us any details, so everyone was left guessing." She said soberly. "He thinks of you, as the daughter that he never had."

"Sorry. We were in a chemical mine field at Baskerville and I had an allergic reaction to a drug."

"You really shouldn't be out of bed then."

I laughed lightly. "I'm a lot stronger than I look. But I won't deny that I am a little tired. I will take your offer for a drink. What are my options?"

"Water actually."

"I'll take it."

Sally turned and walked away. Sherlock was rattling off his deductions about the thief to whom I assumed was the museum owner and the poor man looked as if he were about to faint.

In boredom, I looked down at the ground and just studied the floor. Then, I saw a pile of tobacco ashes less than a foot away from me. I got down on my knees and examined it more closely. I glanced around; no one in the room was smoking a pipe. I should have ignored it, but I knew that museums didn't allow people to smoke. It wasn't mud, I could tell that due to my household experience.

Andersen glanced down at me. "What are you doing down there?"

"Tobacco ash." I said. "Someone was smoking in here."

"You must be mistaken." He explained to me as if I was an idiot. "No one smokes in here."

"Can you ask around?" I asked politely. "Make sure?"

"No."

"Was someone smoking in here?" I proclaimed loudly and all heads went towards me. I pointed to the ashes on the ground. "Someone was smoking a pipe in here! Who was it?"

"No one smokes in an art museum." Andersen said. "She's mistaken."

Sherlock walked towards me. "I wouldn't say that out loud in front of Tammy. You're liable to walk away with a bloody ear." He knelt down and his eyes lit up. "And it _is_ tobacco ash."

"But no one in here has been smoking a pipe!" The museum owner said. "It's forbidden!"

"Then it was smoked by someone, who obviously didn't care for the arts." I pointed out. "So why respect the place you despise?"

"Good point Tammy." Sherlock said. "You've been paying attention; I may make a decent Holmes of you yet."

I arch my brow. "You've been doing a very good job of it lately."

Sherlock stares at me in surprise for a moment before clearing his throat. "This proves my theory, that out thief is a smoker. You're also out of your chair."

"I couldn't examine it from the chair." He helped me up and back into my chair. "I'm fine. Which of the 243 types of tobacco ash was it?" Sherlock kissed my cheek and I stared at him in amazement. "What was that for?"

"For actually listening to me. John can never remember the exact number of tobacco ash." Sherlock turned and went back towards the wall. "All right, so he's a smoker as well, that narrows the field quite a bit."

Andersen's mouth fell open in shock. "Why did he just-

"Oh for God's sake Andersen," I snapped. "get out of my sight and mind your own business!" he opened his mouth and I cut him off. "And if you don't leave me alone, I will report you to Lestrade and he _will not _be as merciful as I am."

Sherlock glanced up at me. I smiled and wiggled my fingers at him, assuring him that I was fine. "Here you go." Sally said as Andersen stalked off.

I turned and reached for my water. "Thank you sally."

"You…actually love him." Sally said slowly. I looked up at her, she looked slightly confused. "I don't understand it. Why him?"

I leaned back in my chair. "Who tells the heart to love? I don't know. I think I was attracted to him the moment he first touched my hand. I fell in love with him a week after that."

"But how?" Sally asked as she sat down beside me. "I mean, he's so rude, and such a know-it-all."

I nodded. "Yes, but he's also very sweet."

"Sweet?" Sally laughed. "Him? Sweet?"

"I know he's a hard man to understand, but there's another side to him that he shows to no one but me. He was reading love letters to me today in the hospital."

Sally was stunned. "Love letters? Him?"

"He knows I love listening to him talk, so he said he'll read a letter to me every night and every morning." I glanced up at Sherlock. He was moving around the room, examining it and looking rather ridiculous at the moment. "Everyone has a job in their life, you found yours and mine is simply being there when he needs me. And I love it."

My phone went off and Sherlock shouted. "Don't answer it! It's John!"

I glanced down at it and sure enough, it was John. "As I was saying, I love the job…most of the time." Sally and I laughed; somehow, we'd broken the ice between us. Maybe, a friendship could be formed out the rocky beginning we'd had together. I answered John anyway. "Yes John?"

_Tammy. You need to get back here, now._

"John, I'm fine honest."

_Fine!_ John was hopping mad. I fought back a laugh of an image in my mind. John's head was attached to a rabbit's body, talking into a cell phone, naturally the rabbit was angry and hopping madly. _Look, this isn't funny! It's dangerous to you and your health._

"I'm fine John." I said. "You know Sherlock; he has nothing but my safety in mind. I took my medication and I haven't tried anything crazy."

_You say Sherlock has nothing but your safety in mind. I suppose he had that in mind when he locked us in that bloody lab?_ My head shot up and I wondered if I'd heard John. _He had your safety in mind then? You may be forgiving, but I'm not! I thought you were scared to death._

"Could you repeat that again please John? I could have sworn you just said that Sherlock locked you and me in that lab in Baskerville."

_That's what I said._

Anger mounted up in me and my fingers dug into the phone. "John Hamish Watson, you better be lying to me!"

_I'm not._ John sounded nervous now._ Look, calm down Tammy._

"I am calm!" I snapped out. "I've never been calmer in my life!"

"Tammy," Sherlock said calmly. "you should take that phone call outside."

"You shut up!" I shouted at him and Sherlock jumped, letting me know I had him off guard.

He frowned. "What's the matter with you?"

"You, Mr. Sherlock….whatever-your-middle-name is Holmes, you've got some explaining to do now! And I do mean now!"

He frowned cautiously at me. "Explain what?"

"John says that you locked us in that lab in Baskerville! Is that true?" Sherlock looked guilty and my mouth dropped open. "Oh my God!"

Sally backed away. "I'll give you two a minute."

"Thank you. Might want to make it five minutes though. I'll need that long to stash the body."

Sherlock strode towards me and took my phone. "Thanks John. Couldn't keep your mouth shut could you?" He hung up, shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down at me. "Can we discuss this later?"

"No!"

"Will you at least calm down? You're coughing now."

He handed me my inhaler. "Don't even think about smoothing talking me, because it won't work."

"Don't bet on it."

"Now," I demanded firmly. "did you or didn't lock John and I in a lab and frighten the daylights out of us? I know John doesn't lie, but I'm willing to be open in this case since he wants me back in the hospital. But you better answer me honestly! And don't you lie because I will have Mycroft ask Major Barrymore himself!"

Sherlock nodded. "Yes. I did."

My mouth fell open. "Sherlock! I was scared to death!"

"You were perfectly safe."

"I didn't feel safe!" I stared at him. "I can't believe it! You actually locked John and I inside that…haunted house of a lab!"

"I had to, it was an experiment."

"Experiment!" I shrieked. "I am not an experiment!" Sherlock tried to shush me as everyone looked towards us. "Don't you shush me! I was terrified to death! And you wonder I almost died after having to endure that frightening endeavor!" I snapped my finger. "No wonder I thought I tasted an apology on your lips!"

"Do keep your voice down, this is a crime scene!"

"Says the man who can show up at Buckingham Palace wearing only a sheet over his birthday suit!"

"I thought the drug was in the sugar." He hissed. "You were in totally scientific, sanitary, safe, laboratory conditions."

"You make me sound like a rat. The dog growling," I demanded. "how did you do that?"

"A recording over a loud speaker."

I moaned. "I can't believe this! Why?"

"I knew what effect the drug had on a superior mind so I needed to try it on an average one." I groaned. "You know what I mean."

"I know what you mean, but it wasn't in the sugar."

"Yeah, well, how was I to know that you weren't exposed to the gas? I found that out _after _the experiment!" He reminded me.

"So you got it wrong?" I asked.

Sherlock responded instantly. "No."

I glowered at him and crossed my arms. "You were wrong. It wasn't in the sugar." I snarled. "You got it wrong."

Sherlock leaned forward and whispered in my ear. "A bit. Won't happen again."

"Say it." I said.

"Say what?"

"You know _exactly _what I want to hear you say if you expect me to talk to you again, much less allow you to put your hands on me again!"

Sherlock exhaled. "Sorry."

"Try it again."

"I'm sorry."

"Getting warmer." I sing-songed. "Try again."

Sherlock pulled me into his arms. "Tammy, dearest, I am _so _sorry; I will never frighten you to death again."

I laughed and hugged him. "Wrong tone of voice, but you're getting there. Now, get back to work."

"How can I go back to work when you threaten to never speak to me again, or even be allowed to touch?"

I laughed and gave him a shove. "Go on!" Sherlock grinned and trotted off obediently. "But if you _ever _do that, I will give John and Lestrade full permission to shoot you! And I'll tell them where to hide the body where it can't be found!"


	30. 30: 'The hat' photograph

Chapter Thirty: 'The hat' photograph

* * *

_A month later,_

* * *

I awoke later with Sherlock beside me, he was still asleep and I smiled as I studied him. He was naked under the covers, as was I, his eyes were closed shut, his hair was a tousled mess and he had an arm wrapped around my waist. Even though he was sleeping, his grip was still tight. I leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Sherlock's eyes opened and I smiled. "Good morning."

"Morning." He ran his hand down my cheek. "How do you feel?"

I smiled. "Wonderful."

We'd been practically starved from any physical affection for the longest time. Sherlock had insisted on waiting a full week after my recover, to ensure that my body could endure the passion that he intended to drown me in. So when that week of abstention was over, Sherlock and I practically attacked each other.

After recovering the Reichenbach painting, the cases came flooding in. Sherlock and I had our own separate jobs, so we'd see each other either at night or through texts until the case was solved. We promised not to call each other unless it was absolutely necessary. As a result, my phone would go off in the middle of a show and I'd have to pause and take his call. Most of the time, it was a riddle and he'd ask me to think about it and I always could provide him with an answer. This always entertained the audience, because as far as they knew, we were just friends.

The newspapers didn't know that Sherlock and I married; Sherlock had insisted that John keep that piece of information out of his blog. Sherlock wanted me to have as much privacy as possible. He also didn't want to think of me getting mobbed by reporters every night after a show. I kept my maiden name as my stage name and no one thought anything about my rings. I had my promise ring next to my wedding band. I was an entertainer, so for me to wear more than one piece of jewelry wasn't unusual.

"Sore?"

"A little, but I loved it. You were excellent, as always."

Sherlock bobbed his head. "Thank you." I laughed lightly. "John was right you know. We definitely should have finished our honeymoon."

"People needed your help and I don't mind sharing you."

"I do wonder if you mind our very physical relationship at times. After all, we don't see each other for a day or two and then the instant I have a night free, or even an hour free, I can't seem to keep my hands off you." He wrapped his arm around my shoulder. "Not that you seem to mind any, but, I do wonder if you mind. I don't want you to think that I only married you for sex."

"If I minded Sherlock, you'd know." I assured him. "The idea that you would be just using my body never crossed my mind at all. Thank you for being considerate in that area. At times though, I have wondered at your skill, since I'm the only woman you've had to practice on."

"Don't be silly Tammy; there are plenty of books on the subject." He stated. "Besides, I'm well aware of how the human body works. I happen to know your body like a map, I know exactly how your body responds and I know exactly what it likes." I blushed and bit my lip. "Just as you know every time you bite your lip it drives me crazy." Sherlock kissed me right as my phone went off. "Don't answer it." He whined. "Please?"

I reached for it on the nightstand and answered it anyway. "Hello?"

Sherlock groaned. "Can't you do what I ask?"

_Tammy?_ It was Sally. _My shift ends at 2:00 today, do you still want to help me refurbish my apartment?_

"Yes. Uhh," Sherlock began kissing my neck and I fought to keep my voice even. "what time is it now?"

Sally was quiet for a moment. _You're with Sherlock aren't you?_

I blushed and let out a quiet shriek as he nibbled at my neck. "Yes! Sorry. Sherlock!" I hissed. "I'm on the phone!"

"People shouldn't go around calling married couples when they're in bed together!"

He said it loud enough for Sally to hear and she now sounded so uncomfortable now. _Sorry. It's uhm, 11:30._

"And?" Sherlock's hand slid between my legs and I let out a shriek as he thrust his finger deep inside me. "God! Sorry Sally!" I was so embarrassed now. "Sherlock, stop it! I mean it!" Sherlock pouted, but he didn't do as I asked. "I am so sorry Sally! He's not behaving." I received an extra hard jab for that remark. "Ahh! Try to make it fast."

Sally stammered. _I guess I should remind you that Sherlock and john have to be down here for the press conference we're holding at 12:00._

"Right! I'd forgotten!" I bolted upright, hitting Sherlock's chin with my shoulder. He let out a grunt. "Sorry! He'll be there, on time! I promise! Bye!" I hung up, pushed his hand away and jumped out of bed, went straight for my dresser. "Sherlock, get dressed!"

"What on earth for?" He said as he lounged back on the bed. "It's Saturday, and I've got nothing going on."

"Except a press conference."

"Boring."

"Sherlock!" I said. "I promised Sally you'd be there on time for a change."

Sherlock glowered at me. "You promised Sally?"

"Yes!"

He got out of bed, grabbing his robe and walked over to me. "And why are you talking to Sally? Last time I remember, you were pulling out her hair!"

"Oh, we're kinda friends now." I pulled on a set of undergarments and went towards the closet. "What are you wearing? Never mind, I know, purple!"

"Actually, I was thinking of wearing that green shirt you got me."

I straightened and stared him. "You must want something out of me. What is it?"

"You."

I shook my head. "I should have known. You can have me later, I promise. Now, go get dressed!"

Sherlock sulked and stomped downstairs to get dressed. I grabbed a green dress and hurriedly got dressed. I shimmied into the dress, it was a plain dress, but I felt sexy in it. I brushed my hair, applied some lipstick, grabbed a pair of black heels and then hurried down the stairs.

I opened Sherlock's flat and bumped into John, he was all ready to go. "Hello Tammy." He nodded approvingly. "You look beautiful, as always."

"Thank you John." I headed towards Sherlock's bedroom. "Sherlock, are you ready?"

"Yes." He groused and I opened the door to see him fixing his coat so the lapels lay just right. He turned towards me and smirked. True to his word, he was wearing that deep green shirt, and he looked smoking hot in that color. He stepped towards me, his voice husky. "You look so….resplendent this morning."

"Thank you." He kissed me and I inhaled his cologne. But once his hands began to wander, I pulled away. "Sherlock, you've got to be there in ten minutes."

He didn't let me free though. "I will cover you with love when I see you, with caresses, with ecstasy. I want to gorge you with all the joys of the flesh, so that you faint or die." I closed my eyes and just listened to him. Dear God that voice could cause me to melt into a pile of butter! "I want you to be amazed by me, and to confess to yourself that you never even dreamed of such transports. When you are old, I want you to recall those few hours; I want your dry bones to quiver with joy when you think of them."

"I'm sure I will Sherlock." I trembled and licked my lips. "That was beautiful. Who wrote that?"

"Gustave Flaubert to Louise Colet."

"And how were they together?" I asked quietly. "Did they live and love happily ever after?"

Sherlock shook his head. "She was his lover, he wasn't faithful though and they never married."

I shook my head sadly. "And he could write such beautiful words to her, but he couldn't love her for all eternity?"

Sherlock's brows knitted. "I've made you sad."

"Not really. But, could you quote something to me about a couple who were married and lived happily ever after?"

"Ok." He closed his eyes and searched his mind. "I swear to you, were we not married I would beg you on my knees to be my wife, which I could not do, did I not esteem you, as well as I love you. John Churchill, to his wife Sarah."

"I definitely approve of that quote."

"What are you going to be doing while I'm gone?"

"I actually have a hair appointment."

Sherlock frowned. "Don't cut your hair!"

"I won't. I promise." I kissed him. "Now, go, John's waiting for you."

Sherlock frowned. "You seem rather excited to get me out of the house."

"Yes, I want you to get this over and done with now, so, I don't have to worry about you. Go!"

"You're not meeting someone are you?" Sherlock asked. "And don't lie to me, because I'll find out!"

I laughed. "Sherlock, you are so funny!" I walked out of the bedroom shaking my head. "I'd never cheat on you! Besides, you'd know the instant if I did."

John smiled at us. "You two look nice, actually color coordinated."

I nodded. "Sherlock's wearing the shirt I bought him. He looks nice in this color."

"How about a photo?" Sherlock suggested.

"You're stalling," I said. "but, I like the idea, we don't have very many pictures of us together. John, do you mind?"

He shook his head. "No. Uhm, how about in front of the fireplace?"

I nodded and moved towards the fireplace. Sherlock stepped in behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. I smiled as John snapped several pictures. I then felt Sherlock's lips on my neck and I closed my eyes and turned towards him slightly.

"Oh, that definitely a good one." John said.

I pulled away. "You two, go, now, before Sherlock convinces me to let him stay." I kissed his cheek. "Now be a good little boy and behave."

Sherlock groaned. "Phone ahead and tell Sally and Andersen to behave! There's nothing wrong with me!"

* * *

I came up the stairs an hour later with my hair styled a little differently. It had been trimmed and Sherlock would be bound to notice. But I liked it; it showed off my face and eyes more now.

"Boffin!" Sherlock definitely sounded agitated about something. "Boffin Sherlock Holmes!"

"What's a boffin, Sherlock?" I asked innocently as I came into the door.

"A scientific expert, especially one involved in research," he explained. "who is regarded as being unconventional or absent-minded."

"You are anything but absent-minded." I frowned. "Who called you that?"

"Everybody gets one." John said.

"One what?"

"Tabloid nickname. Shouldn't worry," John said as he browsed through the tabloid newspaper. "I'll probably get one soon."

"Page five, column six, first sentence." Sherlock began complaining. "Why is it always 'the hat' photograph?"

It was then that I realized that Sherlock was holding 'that hat' in his hand. Well, he was punching it. "Where did you get that?"

"Oh, Lestrade gave it to me." he complained. I looked down to keep from laughing.

"Bachelor' John Watson?" John was now focused on a completely different thing. "Bachelor? What the hell are they implying?"

"What kind of hat is it anyway?" He shook the hat back and forth, examining it with a disgusted, critical eye. "Is it a cap? Why has it got two fronts?"

"It's a deerstalker." John said. "Frequently seen in the company of bachelor John Watson."

"How do you stalk a deer with a hat?" Sherlock demanded. "What are you going to do, throw it?"

"Confirmed bachelor."

I chuckled as I watched Sherlock degrading the hat and John was talking about the magazine article. "Some sort of death Frisbee?"

"Okay, this is too much. We've got to be more careful."

"It's got flaps. Ear flaps! It's an 'ear' hat, John!" He threw it at John and then straightened. "What do you mean, more careful?"

"I mean, this isn't a deerstalker now, it's a Sherlock Holmes hat." Sherlock groaned. "I mean, that you're not exactly a 'private' detective anymore! You're this far from famous!"

Sherlock sank onto his couch. "Oh, it'll pass."

"It better pass." John said firmly. "The press will turn, Sherlock. They always turn. And they'll turn on you."

I sat down on the edge of Sherlock's chair. He was in deep thought for the moment, so he didn't really register my presence. He turned to John. "It really bothers you."

"What?"

"What people say about me? I don't understand, why would it upset you?"

John exhaled. Sherlock was showing one of his 'stupid' moments. "Just try to keep a low profile. Find yourself a little case this week. Stay out of the news. Or," John offered. "you could announce that you're married. I can't figure out why the media doesn't know that."

"Oh, that was a mutual agreement on our side." I commented. Sherlock tugged me down into his lap. "We agreed that it'd be worth keeping it a secret. Mycroft had Sherlock's relationship status hidden as a safety precaution at his request."

"And it doesn't bother you that they're suggesting that…Sherlock and I…are a couple?"

I frowned. "I didn't know that."

"You don't read the tabloids?"

"No. It's a bunch of lies and nonsense anyway. So why waste my money on a bunch of lies?"

"You cut your hair." Sherlock observed as he absent-mindedly stroked my leg. "I asked you not to cut it."

"Sherlock, they only trimmed my hair a little. See? You can appreciate my face and eyes better now."

"Tammy," John asked. "are you two going to keep this marriage a secret forever?"

"We're definitely going to keep it a secret as long as possible." I said. "I hate publicity."

"When a man loves a woman he doesn't want to see her face plastered over every magazine, he prefers to keep it to himself. Besides," he studies my expression. "I don't want her fighting off the reporters every night. Last thing I need to think about is her panicking and collapsing on the street."

"I won't have a panic attack if I get mobbed." I reminded him. "I haven't had an attack in a long time."

"You had one exactly, thirty-seven days ago."

I covered his mouth. "And I don't need to know the exact amount of hour, minutes and seconds as well." Sherlock sucked a corner of my palm and I dropped my hand. "And I promised that the next time you're working on a case that has to do with chemicals, I'll stay home."

"Good." My phone went off. It was Sally. Sherlock groaned. "Doesn't she ever text?"

"No." I commented as I answered it. "Hello Sally."

Hi Tammy, I can't make it after all. Something came up.

"Don't even bother apologizing, I completely understand."

Oh, you're used to Sherlock doing this to you?

"Constantly."

I'll call you tomorrow afternoon.

"Oh, I won't be available until after one. I'm going down to visit the Tower of London and see the Crown Jewels."

Oh, have fun.

"Thank you. I'll catch up with you later Sally."

Sherlock frowned. "Tower of London? That's not much fun."

I nodded. "Since I'm going to live here, I should probably get a look at some of London's sites. I haven't much time to do that."

"Well, enjoy. I've got a case, otherwise I'd join you."

I nodded. "I'll have fun."

"And be careful."

"What could possibly happen to me at the Tower of London?"


	31. 31: London tower falls

Chapter Thirty-one: London Tower falls

* * *

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shinning and everything was right with the world. Until I happened to look up at the sound of a metal detector and saw Moriarty behind me. I spun around and quickly pulled out my phone and dialed Sherlock.

I moved into the darker shadows of the vault, and to my dismay, Moriarty was following me. Sherlock finally picked up. _Tammy?_ Except it was John who answered. _What's going on?_

"I don't care if he's in the middle of an experiment; you put me on speaker and hand me over to Sherlock. Now!"

_Right. Sherlock, its Tammy._

_I know that._ He said. _Explain I'm busy._

"Sherlock!" I hissed. "I'm in the vault with the crown jewels."

_I guess that the sight of them is so breathtaking it took your breath away, or you're coming down with laryngitis. Why are you whispering?_

"Moriarty's here."

Sherlock was silent for a long time. _Maybe he's just touring._

"No, he isn't!" I said, risking a glance over my shoulder. He was doing something weird. "He's been in London for many years. Why would he suddenly decide to go view the crown jewels now?"

_Good point._

"He's dressed like…a tourist."

_A tourist?_ Sherlock's interest picked up. _What's he doing?_

"He's got his headphones plugged into his phone." I frowned. "He's…doing something really weird. He's…got this weird face and he's got his arms stretched out, as if he's…getting ready to…you're not going to believe me."

_Try me._

"Dance."

_Dance? Don't be ridiculous Tammy._

"I said you wouldn't believe me. He's doing something on his phone." The moment I said that, alarms started ringing loudly. "What is that?"

"This is an emergency." A voice said over the loud speaker. "Clear the vault."

I did as I was asked, I walked by Moriarty. He smirked at me and I looked away from him. Moriarty didn't follow; he acted as if he didn't hear. I looked behind me, just in time to see him spray something in the tour guide's face and knock him out!

_What's going on?_

"He just knocked out a tour guide." The vault slammed shut behind me and I followed the crowd of people outside. "He's inside the vault as we speak."

_Tammy?_ Sherlock said. _I've got to hang up._

"Sherlock!" I groaned as his phone went off. I dialed John and he immediately picked up. "Does he have a reason for hanging up on me?"

_He wants to keep his line clear, in case your brother calls him._

"Moriarty doesn't have his number and he is not my brother anymore!" I said as we were hustled outside. "But whatever, Sherlock's the one with the brain and I'm not going to argue with him." I could hear the police sirens loud and clear. "Poor Greg, right on his coffee break."

_How does she know it's his coffee break_? Sherlock asked loudly.

"My business!" I snapped.

I stood on the sidelines with the other spectators as the police cars pulled up. I saw Lestrade, Sally and a dozen other faces and several SWAT team members pull up as well. I stood there, communicating with John about everything that was going on around us. John also then informed me that, according to Twitter and the all the breaking news that the Bank of England was broken into and Pentonville prison as well! Evidentially, all done by Moriarty at the same time, with just his phone! John and I were freaking out while Sherlock was calm as a cucumber during the whole exchange.

Minutes seemed to stretch into hours for me and then I saw the police leading Moriarty out of the building, handcuffed. He smiled at me when we made eye contact. I ducked my head and looked towards Sally and Lestrade.

It was Sally who caught sight of me and she walked towards me. "I didn't know you were still here!"

I nodded. "I've been giving Sherlock details over the phone."

"Are you ok?"

"Yes, I'm fine! I just can't ever seem to get a vacation. So what did Moriarty want? Any ideas?"

"No." Her eyes flashed. "Moriarty? How'd you know his name is Moriarty?"

"Because I happen to have the extreme misfortune of knowing him." I glanced towards the car he was in and shot him a glare. "He's like Sherlock, except he fights on the side of the devil. You'd do the whole world a huge favor if you just killed him now and saved everyone the trouble."

Sally looked floored. "Oh, I don't know how you get involved in these things."

"I think it's because I married a Holmes." I groaned. "Mystery latches onto that family name it won't let go."

* * *

From that day forward, the newspapers were filled with photos of Moriarty. I wasn't called to testify, and I was grateful about that. Sherlock was slightly upset that he'd been called to testify. He didn't say anything, but I could tell he was upset because he didn't complain about 'the hat' photographs that were all over every magazine cover. I didn't know what game Moriarty was playing, but it must be a serious.

I woke the morning of the trial, nervous enough to get sick. I got up and dressed. I'd chosen a deep purple, pinstripe, dress suit to wear. I didn't eat anything that day, I couldn't eat anything. I went down to the flat to find Sherlock and John were putting on their coats.

"Anyone hungry?" I asked.

"No." they replied in unison.

"Ok."

John studied me. "You ok?"

I shook my head. "Not really. I'll be fine once this is over."

Sherlock walked up to me and pulled me into a hug. I closed my eyes as he rubbed my shoulders and gently swayed me back and forth. "You'll be fine." He murmured in my ear. "You're three times the lady and you're definitely going to be the sexiest woman in the courtroom." I shouldn't smile at his words, but I did. Sherlock tilted my chin up and he nodded when he saw I was smiling up at him. "Good. Let's go."

We trotted down the stairs and paused at the door. Sherlock stopped and readied himself for the mob. "Ready?"

Sherlock nodded curtly. "Yeah."

"You get in first." I said. "That way you're not showing me any favors."

Sherlock nodded. John opened the door and I followed behind Sherlock. The police were doing their best to keep the curious mob at bay. Sherlock opened the door and climbed in. I got in after him and closed the door. Once John was in, the police car pulled away in the direction of the Old Bailey courthouse.

Sherlock patted me. "Crawl over me and let me have the window seat."

"Sure." I obliged him and John steadied me as I crawled over Sherlock. "You're welcome." Sherlock nodded, but he didn't thank me. I fell into John's lap and he helped me sit up right. "Thank you John."

"You're welcome." John said. "Sherlock, remember?"

Sherlock cut John off. "Yes."

"Remember," he said patiently. "what they told you, don't try to be clever." Sherlock, I knew at this point, wasn't paying any attention to John. "And please just keep it simple and brief."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "God forbid the star witness at the trial should come across as intelligent."

"Intelligent, fine." John advised. "Let's give smart arse a wide berth."

Sherlock paused for a moment before looking out the window. "I'll just be myself."

John blinked. "Are you listening to me?"

I glanced at Sherlock and shook my head. "He's in his own world at the moment John, best to let him be."

"But Tammy, he must be made aware of these things."

"He's Sherlock Holmes." I said quietly as I played with my nails. "I can't ask him to be anything less than he is."

Sherlock reached into his pocket and handed me my MP3 player. "Here. Thought you'd want this."

"Thank you. I thought I'd lost it."

"It was in the bed covers and still playing."

I smiled faintly. "I married you to help me find my MP3 player."

"Turn it on."

I nodded and turned it on to see it was at 'our' song, 'She's always a woman.' I put my earbuds in, leaned back, closed my eyes and focused on the memories attached to that song, instead of the day that I was living in at the moment.

The courthouse was directly across from Bart's Morgue, which was rather ironic. Sherlock, john and I sat around outside for a bit. Melissa Manchester's rendition of 'Don't cry out loud' was exceptionally beautiful today. I closed my eyes, concentrating on the music and the lyrics.

Then I felt John nudging me. "Tammy? We've been summoned."

I took out my ear buds and stood up. "I should probably freshen up."

"The loo's that way." John pointed down the hall.

"Thank you." I frowned. "Where's Sherlock?"

"He went the same direction, you're going."

"Thanks."

I walked down to the lady's bathroom, yeah; I know it's called a loo in London. But every time I hear the word loo, I think of Lou Costello! Besides, I've been calling it a bathroom for all of my life; I can't change that part of my vocabulary now. I eyed my reflection in the mirror and I decided that I looked fine.

I exited at the same time Sherlock came out of the men's room. He looked exasperated; I frowned as I approached him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He bit out. "Unwanted guest." He took my arm. "Let's go."

I looked behind his shoulder to see a woman exit the men's bathroom! She had her red hair in pigtails, but the thing that caught my attention was her shirt. It was unbuttoned a bit low and revealing a bit of cleavage. My eyes bulged. "Did she just-

"Later Tammy." He said. "Nothing happened."

"I know that." I said softly. "I trust you. Was she a reporter?"

"She _wants_ to be reporter." He said shortly. "There's a difference."

I nodded. Something was really bothering him, I didn't know what. "I'll just shut up now, then."

Sherlock stopped and studied me. "You're really not ok. Your pulse is racing and you're not even going to broach a real argument with me after finding a woman following me out of the bathroom. What is it?""

I shook my head. "It's just…this whole thing, Sherlock. I know, I've pushed him out of my life and he's not my brother to me anymore but….the bond, it hasn't completely broken yet."

"I see."

"I wish I had your nerves of steel."

"You're a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for." He said firmly. "Believe me Tammy, you're emotional, but when it really counts, you're strong."

I smiled feebly. "Thank you. Those were exactly the words that I needed to hear at this moment."

"Good." He turned towards John. "I'll see the two of you later."

"And don't forget," John reminded him. "give smart arse a wide berth."

I rubbed Sherlock's shoulder. "Just be yourself, but a polite version."

Sherlock smirked. "You heard the lady John." He kissed me quickly. "Thank you." And with that, he turned and walked into the courtroom.

I shook my head. "Show off."

"Ahh, but he is a show off. That's what he does, remember?" I laughed quietly with John. "Come on; let's find some good seats in the gallery."


	32. 32: All part of the game

Chapter Thirty-two: All part of the game

* * *

"A consulting criminal?"

"Yes."

The prosecuting Barrister glanced at Sherlock. "Your words. Can you expand on that answer?"

Sherlock nodded. "James Moriarty is for hire."

"A tradesman?"

"Yes." He sneered.

"But not the sort who'd fix your heating?"

"No, the sort who'd plant a bomb or stage an assassination. But I'm sure he'd make a decent job of your boiler."

Everyone chuckled and the Barrister attempted to remove the humor from the air. "Would you describe him as-

Sherlock interrupted. "Leading."

"What?"

"Can't do that." Sherlock stated. "You're leading the witness. He'll object and the judge will uphold."

The judge looked surprised. "Mr. Holmes!"

Sherlock ignored him. "Ask me _how_. _How_ would I describe him? What opinion have I formed of him? Do they not teach you this?"

"Mr. Holmes," the judge said. "we're fine without your help.

The Barrister continued, a little miffed with Sherlock's intellect. "How would you describe this man? His character?"

"First mistake. James Moriarty isn't a man at all." Sherlock said slowly, dangerously, as he held eye contact with Moriarty. "He's a spider. A spider at the center of a web. A criminal web with a thousand threads and he knows precisely how each and every single one of them dances."

The Barrister cleared her throat uncomfortably. "And how long-

"No, no. Don't, don't do that." Sherlock said. "That's really not a good question."

The judge obviously couldn't believe that Sherlock was actually doing this. "Mr. Holmes!"

"How long have I known him? Not really your best line of enquiry." He glanced at the Barrister before turning back to Moriarty. "We met twice, five minutes in total. I pulled a gun; he tried to blow me up. I felt we had a special something." Sherlock chose to keep my connections to him out of the trial so we could hopefully live our life in peace.

I shook my head as the judge spoke. "Miss Sorrel, are you seriously claiming this man is an expert? After knowing the accused for just _five_ minutes?"

I really decided that I didn't like this judge, he spoke with a sneer. Sherlock was quick to respond eager to defend his reputation. "Two minutes would have made me an expert. Five was ample."

"Mr. Holmes, that's a matter for the jury!"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Oh, really?" Sherlock glanced up at John and I in the balcony. I shook my head silently, begging him not to do what I knew he was going to do. His eyes darted towards the jury and I saw immediately what was coming.

I groaned. "Oh no." Here we go."

"One librarian, two teachers, two high-pressure jobs, probably the City. Foreman's a medical secretary, trained abroad, judging by her shorthand."

The judge was shocked. "Mr. Holmes!"

But Sherlock was on a roll and there was no shutting him up. "Seven are married and two are having an affair, with each other, it would seem." I groaned. "Oh, and they've just had tea and biscuits. Would you like to know who ate the wafer?"

Now the judge had lost his all of his patience. "Mr. Holmes!" He snapped. "You've been called here to answer Miss Sorrel's questions, not to give us a display of your intellectual prowess." Sherlock face was practically screaming, "Not interested in what anyone else cares" and nobody except me was seeing that. "Keep your answers brief and to the point. Anything else will be treated as contempt. Do you think you could survive for just a few minutes without SHOWING OFF?"

I saw _that_ light come into Sherlock's eyes and knew the Judge had sunk the Titanic with that question. "No, he can't." I moaned as I rested my face in my hands as Sherlock then proceeded to deduce the Judge. I shook my head and tried not to laugh, but my shaking shoulders told me I was failing miserably. The judge had Sherlock arrested for contempt of court and he was hauled away. I shook my head at Sherlock as he looked up towards the balcony. He merely smirked and winked at me. "I'm gonna kill him."

"If he doesn't get the upper hand first." John said quietly.

I blushed. "You surprise me with your wit from time to time John and this was one of those times."

John and I sat throughout the trail; Sherlock would definitely want details. I watched Moriarty; he stood there, like a gargoyle statue. No emotion, except he'd give me an occasional lazy smile that would churn my stomach. As I sat there, my mind began to wander. Then, curiosity began to overwhelm me. There was something wrong with this picture.

He was smart enough not to get caught during the bombing incident. So why do something like this? I looked at Jim. I looked at him hard and his lawyer. His lawyer hadn't stirred once. In fact, the lawyer looked bored. Why? He was facing serious charges, but he didn't look concerned at all. In fact, why did he let himself get caught? He was clever enough to avoid being arrested. If Sherlock were going to pull a stunt like this, he'd have covered his tracks. Why? Why do something stupid like this unless you all ready had a plan in mind? Then, the answer was obvious to me.

"He's going to go free." I murmured to myself.

"Sorry?" John whispered. "What?"

"He's going to get off, Scott free." I repeated. "I don't know how, but it's obvious. He's going to walk out of here tomorrow a free man." I ran my hand through my hair. "I know it."

"Tammy." John said. "That's impossible. The guilt is staring all of them in the face."

I stood up. "I'm wasting time. I'm going to go spring Sherlock."

"They probably haven't even posted bail yet."

"Then I'll go wait."

I had to wait a while to complete the necessary paperwork and wait for the money to go through. About fifty minutes later, Sherlock was escorted out. He frowned at me. "Took you long enough!"

I smiled at him as he walked up to me, adjusting his coat. "Hello."

"Don't go saying, 'I told you so' Tammy."

"I'm not." I said placing a hand on my hip. "I just figured that you deliberately wanted to investigate the cells or something like that." He tilted his head and I smiled. "Sorry. I should have had a bet with John that you'd get thrown in prison for contempt of court, I'd have won."

He studies me and shakes his head. "Don't make that face."

I frown. "What face?"

"That face."

"Describe it."

"It's the, 'God, I love it when he does that' face."

I smile as I lean forward to breathe against his lips. "It's actually my, "God, he's so sexy when he's being brilliant face,' actually."

"There you two are!" John said as he approached us. We exhaled and pulled away from each other. "I bet you cost Tammy a pretty penny!"

"She can afford it." Sherlock stated. "Haven't you heard? I married her for her money."

"And did you hear what I said earlier? What did I say?" John asked. "I said, "Don't get clever."

Sherlock reached for the bag of his confiscated belongings. "I can't just turn it off and on like a tap."

"He can't John."

"Stop defending him Tammy," John said. "you're going to spoil him and he's going to make a habit of acting up as long as you stick around to clean up his messes."

I rolled my eyes. "I like Sherlock the way he is, it keeps life interesting."

Sherlock smirked and we all walked out of the room. John talked non-stop all the way back to the flat, giving Sherlock all the details. Both men discussed the trial to great length and Sherlock nodded with the few things John was saying.

My head ached. I kicked off my heels, closed my eyes, rubbed my head, and tried to absorb everything that happened today. "You ok?" John asked. "Headache?"

I nodded. "Yes, but its not too bad. Just…too many memories."

Sherlock began his pacing back and forth, his hands folded in prayer under his nose and he was wearing 'that face' of his again. John sank down into the chair and sighed. "Don't do that."

Sherlock frowned. "Do what?"

"The look."

"Look?"

"You are doing 'the look' again."

I laughed quietly as Sherlock made a face. "I can't see it, can I?" John indicated that he look at the mirror and Sherlock did as John asked, but his expression changed. "It's my face."

"Yes, and it's doing a thing." John pointed out. "You're doing a 'we both know what's really going on here' face."

"Well, we do."

"No, I don't, which is why I find 'the face' so annoying." He stated. "Tammy made a statement earlier that Moriarty is going to go free tomorrow afternoon. So the two of you obviously know something, so why do you mind sharing it with the rest of the class?"

"If Moriarty wanted the jewels he'd have them. If he wanted those prisoners free they'd be out on the streets." He pointed out. "The only reason he's still in a prison cell right now is because he chose to be there. Somehow this is part of his scheme."

"But how? I wondered as I ran my hand through my hair. "And why?"

Sherlock sat on the armrest beside me. "It's part of the game Tammy," he looked above, beyond and through the wall in thought. "and it hasn't even begun yet."


	33. 33: Why inflict pain?

Chapter Thirty-three: Why inflict pain?

* * *

The following day, we waited for the grand announcement about Moriarty's fate. Neither of us had even bothered to get dressed. Sherlock sat in his chair, not speaking a single word. Moriarty wouldn't offer any defense and the jury would declare him not guilty. I sat reading a book, or at least that's what I said I was doing. I hadn't turned a single page in the last two hours and I'd been checking my cellphone constantly for any news from John.

It was 11:25, and Sherlock began speaking quietly and hoarsely. "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, James Moriarty stands accused several counts of attempted burglary, crimes which, if he is found guilty, must elicit a very long custodial sentence, and yet, his legal team, has chosen to offer no evidence whatsoever, to support their plea. I find myself in the unusual position of recommending a verdict wholeheartedly. You must find him guilty. Guilty."

Those were the last words spoken by him and us. Ten minutes later, Sherlock's phone rang. He reached for it and put it on speaker. _Not guilty!_ John was irritated and upset. _Just like you two said. They found him not guilty! No defense and Moriarty's walked free._ I looked at Sherlock. His face was calm and absorbent. He wasn't listening to John anymore and I sincerely doubt that he was aware that I was in the room. _Sherlock, are you listening? He's out. You know, he'll be coming after you two. Sherlock._

Sherlock hung up on John, he didn't say anything to me, but he didn't have to. I knew everything that was going on in his head that moment. He went to his room to get dressed and I went upstairs to my flat to get dressed as well. We met downstairs, both wearing casual clothes. Sherlock had the water boiling and was preparing tea. I knew he was expecting Moriarty.

I didn't disturb him as I went to the cupboard and pulled out the cookie jar that held cookies I'd made. I put them on a plate and added them to tea tray. As I pulled away, Sherlock caught my hand. "You don't have to be here."

"I won't say a word." I said quietly. "Whatever you face, I will face."

I expected him to argue with me about this, but he didn't. But I guess the words from my marriage vow hit him harder than I thought, he simply nodded. "Better find something to occupy your mind."

"I'll read."

He shook his head. "You're not a great reader under pressure; you haven't gotten beyond page 1 on 'Great Expectations' since you sat down."

I nodded. "Then I'll do the dishes. You and John, thankfully, let them stack up a bit."

"Fine." Sherlock nodded and walked away from me. I began searching the cabinets for dirty dishes and I was not disappointed. There were several pans that had spots that hadn't been cleaned properly. Sherlock strode back into the room with his violin and he frowned. "Surely, those all can't be dirty.'

"Yes they are."

"I cleaned them myself."

"You're not used to cleaning dishes. You can notice blood on a shirt half a mile away, but you can't see gravy on a white plate." Sherlock began playing his violin and I asked. "What's piece are you playing?"

"Sonata No.1 for Solo Violin in G, by Bach."

I didn't say anything as he played. I listened to Sherlock play as I filled the sink with soapy water and began scrubbing at the dishes. I glanced at the clock and it was now 12:00. Sherlock paused playing for a moment, before continuing. Then, after several moments, he stopped playing again, and then he spoke.

"Most people knock, but then you aren't most people I suppose." I paused from where I was washing the dishes and turned towards Sherlock. "Kettle's just boiled."

"Johann Sebastian would be appalled." To my dismay, Moriarty was walking in the room. He glanced at me and smiled. "Pleased to see you as well. Surprised you haven't cleaned this place up since you two married." He gestured towards Sherlock's chair. "May I?" I didn't answer him, Sherlock nodded at him though. "You know when he was on his deathbed, Bach, he heard his son at the piano playing one of his pieces." Sherlock calmly poured the tea. "The boy stopped before he got to the end."

"Then the dying man jumped out of bed, ran straight to the piano and finished it."

"Couldn't cope with an unfinished melody."

"Neither can you, that's why you've come."

"But be honest. You're just a tiny bit pleased."

"What, with the verdict?" Sherlock handed Moriarty his tea and I wondered if there'd been a way to slip poison in Moriarty's without him noticing. "Even Tammy saw that coming."

"With me, back on the streets." I made a face as I listened to this unusual conversation going on between them. Sherlock turned back and began fixing his tea. "Every fairy tale needs a good old fashioned villain. You need me, or you're nothing. Because we're just alike, you and I. Except you're boring." I bit my lip and concentrated on scrubbing a pan. "You're on the side of the angels."

"Got to the jury of course."

"I got into the Tower of London. You think I can't worm my way into twelve hotel rooms?"

"Cable network."

"Every bedroom has a personalized TV screen. And every person has their pressure point. Someone that they want to protect from harm. Easy, peasy."

"So how are you going to do it?" Sherlock asked, with a slight tone of mockery in his voice. "Burn me?"

"Oh that's the problem, the final problem. Have you worked out what it is yet?" Sherlock was silent. "What's the final problem? I did tell you. But did you listen?" Again, Sherlock didn't respond to him. For a moment, they just sat there, studying each other. The only sounds that could be heard were from me washing, rinsing and stacking the dishes. "How hard do you find it? Having to say, I don't know?"

Sherlock set his cup of tea aside. "I don't know."

"Oh that's clever. That's very clever. Awfully clever. Speaking of clever, have you told your little friends yet?"

"Told them what?"

"Why I broke into all those places and never took anything?"

"No."

"But you understand."

"Obviously."

"Off you go then."

"You want me to tell you what you already know?"

"No, I want you to prove that you know it. Besides, Tammy might be interested."

"You didn't take anything because you don't need to."

"Good."

"You'll never need to take anything ever again."

"Very good. Because?"

"Because nothing," Sherlock declared. "nothing in the Bank of England, the Tower of London or Pentonville Prison could possibly match the value of the key that could get you in to all three."

"I can open any door anywhere with a few tiny lines of computer code. No such thing as a private bank account now, they're all mine. No such thing as secrecy. I _own_ secrecy. Nuclear codes. I could blow up NATO in alphabetical order." My skin crawled, this man, was insane. "In a world of locked rooms, the man with the key is king, and honey, you should see me in a crown."

I mere image made my flesh crawl. He wouldn't be a king on a throne, he would be a tyrant. "You were advertising all the way through the trial." Sherlock said calmly. "You were showing the world what you can do."

"And you were helping. Big client list. Rogue governments. Intelligence communities. Terror cells. They all want me. Suddenly, I'm Mr. Sex." I dried my hands, turned and leaned my back against the counter, watching the exchange. "Well, except to Tammy. Obviously, you're Mr. Sex to her."

"You could break any bank." Sherlock changed the subject. "What do you care about the highest bidder?"

"I don't. I just like to watch them all competing. "Daddy loves me the best!" Aren't ordinary people adorable? Well, you know, you've got John." Sherlock frowned at him. "Well, you got married, but then I suppose that was the only way to get Tammy into bed with you." I bit my lip and dug my hands into the counter. "I should get myself a live-in one too."

I don't know how Sherlock kept his tone calm and even, but I admired him for it. "Leave Tammy out of this and get back onto the subject."

"Oh, touchy!" He said. "Don't tell me you actually started to care about her after you bedded her?"

Sherlock ignored his remark, keeping his voice calm and even. "Why are you doing all of this?"

"It'd be so funny."

"You don't want money or power, not really." Sherlock asked pointedly. "What is it all for?"

"I want to solve the problem, our problem. The final problem." He ducked his head. "It's going to start very soon, Sherlock. The fall." He whistled, from high to low. "But don't be scared. Falling's just like flying except there's a more permanent destination."

Sherlock straightened and buttoned his coat. "Never liked riddles."

"Learn to because I owe you a fall, Sherlock. And Tammy won't always be around to solve riddles for you." I stood there watching him as he spoke slowly. "I. O. U." he started to walk past me, but he stopped for some reason and stepped towards me. He looked me up and down. "Thought you'd be pregnant by now, considering he can't keep his hands off you." I held his gaze and didn't say a word. "But then, your mother had a hard time getting pregnant. Maybe you're barren." He smiled as I flinched. "That'd be for the better though. Can't have any of Sherlock's brats running around."

Those words hurt, but I refused to let him know that. I kept my tone calm and even. "Then it's a good thing Sherlock and I didn't marry for sex as you put it. You're jealous." He laughed and rolled his head. "Because no matter what you do, you will never, ever, have what Sherlock and I share. And in that dark, twisted mind of yours, you know that. We have trust and you cannot trust anyone in your line of business. And you envy it. As proven in the fairytales, the evil wizard always envies the love that the prince and princess share together." He glowered at me. "The door is that way."

Moriarty studied me. "You'll be sorry."

"Oh believe me," I said. "I all ready am. I've cursed the day I met you and the day you were spawned from Hell." His brows rose in amusement at my harsh words. "Now….get out." I didn't get hysterical; I was angry and hurt. I withheld his gaze and he finally turned and slowly stalked out of the room. I exhaled as he closed the door behind him. I went straight toward the tray and picked it up. "I'll just wash these." I deliberately avoided eye contact as I moved to wash the dishes.

I began washing the dishes with vigor and I felt Sherlock behind me. I felt his hands on my shoulders as he turned me around to face him. He handed me a towel. "Those can wait."

I took the rag and dried my hands. I then wrapped my arms around my waist tightly. "I can't believe I'm related to him."

"Technically, you're not." He pointed out. "You don't even have the same birth parents. You're related through paper, not blood."

I exhaled. "Thank you for pointing that out."

"He hurt you." Sherlock said as he rubbed my shoulders.

I shook my head. "I'm fine Sherlock. Honest."

"You're worried."

I nodded. "Yes, I am."

"There's nothing for you to be worried about. I'll be fine."

I wrapped my arms around his neck. "I know you say you can take care of yourself, but I can still worry can't I? I'm your wife, I love you and even though I'll never hear you say those words to me, I know you love me too. I don't want anything to happen to you! I need you, but more importantly, every person in trouble out there needs you."

Sherlock nodded in agreement with me. "I never thought about it that way. You make it sound like everyone needs me, and while that maybe true," he rubbed my chin with his thumb. "it should comfort you to know that I just need you."

"I don't know what I'd do if I lost you. Moriarty said, he'd burn the heart out of you. Did he know all along that you were going marry me? Was this all part of his plan? Because if he hurts me, he'll get to you and he knows it. What better way to burn someone than by hurting the one that someone loves deeply?"

Sherlock shrugged. "Let's not jump to conclusion. He'd have to get to you first."

I frowned at him. "You don't seemed too worried about my safety."

"I'm not. I've had Mycroft have several plainclothes men follow you for a while."

I stared him. "For how long?"

"Not very long, you're perfectly safe."

"Until someone shoots me."

Sherlock shook his head doubtfully. "Not his style. After all, you are his sister. You both don't acknowledge it, but the bond, it's still there regardless."

"It hurts Sherlock." I whispered. "Why, do people have to hurt people so much? What's the point? Why do they get such a pleasure out of hurting people? The reason is never good enough."

"I have an answer for almost everything Tammy, except those questions. God alone knows the answer to that mystery that man has endeavored to solve forever. Maybe someday, He can answer that for you."


	34. 34: By all means Mr Holmes

Chapter Thirty-Four: By all means Mr. Holmes

* * *

The next few days were awkward. Sherlock was in his mind palace, I didn't want to talk or do anything. In fact, I just sat around, read book, and I didn't feel like doing anything. Moriarty had cast a shadow over the flat and we were just simply living under it. Sherlock and I weren't talking about it and I didn't know how to approach him, mainly because he wasn't familiar with such feelings.

It was a rainy day; I lay in front of the fireplace reading pride and prejudice. I was at the part where Elizabeth was rejecting Darcy's proposal, and I was loosing interest. I closed the book and rolled over on my side.

"I don't know what's wrong with her." Sherlock's voice filtered up through the floor vent. I knew I shouldn't listen, but I didn't really care. "It's like there's a wall around her."

"She's hurting Sherlock." John said calmly. "Her brother just threatened her life and her husband's life. Did you expect her to be prancing around here as happy as can be?"

"I thought she'd get over it."

"Because you're an idiot." John said and I smirked.

I could just see Sherlock glowering at John. "What should I do?"

"You're her husband, you know her better than anyone else."

"And you've had more relationships than I have." Sherlock said. "Give me an idea."

"Do something special for her. Take her mind off things."

I could just see Sherlock shaking his head. "She'd wonder what I was up to."

"And if you romanced your wife more often, she wouldn't be so suspicious."

"Tammy and I are as sexually active as the-

"I don't mean in the terms of your sex life." John said quickly. "There is more to love than simply making love Sherlock, that's easy."

"For the record, I've been giving Tammy her space." John groaned. "What?"

"Of all the times to give her space," John said. "now is not the time."

"Why not? She clearly doesn't want me closing in on her space."

"Sherlock, when was the last time…you showed her some affection? Holding her hand, giving her a hug, take her out for ice skating or something special like that?"

Sherlock was silent. "I guess that would be her birthday."

"Good God Sherlock!" John said. "No wonder she walks around looking like she's about to burst into tears! I bet you didn't even buy her a present."

He hadn't. "Listen John."

"No, you listen. Have you even told her that you loved her?" Silence. "She needs to hear those words Sherlock." Sherlock muttered something that I couldn't hear. "Either you take Tammy out, or I'm going to take her out for a night on the town."

I straightened at those words. Sherlock sounded indignant. "You can't take my wife out!"

"So," John ignored Sherlock's protests and continued with his threats. "you better take her out for a night that she'll remember forever, or I'll make sure she has some fun."

"Look John, Tammy has her moods and I really think its best to give her some space."

"Then why ask my advice?"

I got up from my spot in front of the empty fireplace, I'd heard enough from both of them. I stretched and looked around for my MP3 player, and then I remembered I had it down in Sherlock's flat. I grabbed a heavy coat and went down the stairs.

I pushed the door open, both men's heads jerked towards me. I spotted my MP3 player on the coffee table and I grabbed it. "Don't mind me; I was just looking for this."

Sherlock studied me. "You're going out?" I nodded. "Where?"

"I'm going for a walk."

Both men looked at me as if I was crazy. "In the rain?" I nodded. "But you can't do that," Sherlock said. "it won't help your asthma."

"I don't care. I've been walking out in the rain since I was a child. I'll be fine."

I turned and walked out of the room. I put my headphones in and turned the MP3 player on. I browsed through the tracks and tried to find one appropriate. 'Isn't this a lovely day to be caught in the rain' by Fred Astaire. Gene Kelly's immortal 'Singing in the rain'. David Cassidy's rendition of 'Raindrops'. Neil Sedaka's 'Laughter in the rain.'

I put all of them in a playlist, started with David Cassidy and reached for the doorknob as a hand closed over mine. I looked up to see Sherlock standing there, pulling on his coat. I pulled one earbud out to hear him. "Thought you'd like some company."

I shrugged. "Fine."

I shoved my hands in my pockets. John was right, I did want affection, but I wasn't in the mood to ask for it. "So," Sherlock asked as he put on one of John's hat's on his head. I frowned and then decided it must be the only hat he had that could cover his head. "where are we going?"

"Around the block, does it matter?"

"I guess not." He took my elbow and he walked along with me. He frowned and drew his coat collar up. "I don't understand why you're walking in the rain. There isn't a person on the street."

I pushed the other earbud in. "I happen to like walking in the rain. You don't have to join me if it's going to be such a task."

Sherlock didn't say anything. He pulled out my right earbud and stuck it in his ear, so we could listen to the music together. I didn't talk to him, but it felt nice walking down the street listening to Neil. He pulled my hand out of my pocket and swung it back and forth. I shook my head and smiled at him.

I wasn't concentrating on where we were going until Sherlock pulled me into a small coffee shop. I frowned and turned my MP3 player off. "What are we doing here?"

"I figure we could both use something warm to drink." His eyes scanned the coffee shop. "Two seats over there," he pointed. "they're out of the way and we can talk in private."

I nodded and walked to the seats. They were out of the way and the coffee shop, inspite of the cold weather, wasn't doing very good business. It was rather empty and I felt relieved that Sherlock and I could talk in private. I sat down and ran my fingers along the rim of the scented vanilla candle in the center of the table.

"Sorry about the delay," Sherlock said as he plopped down next to me. "the clerk wanted to know why I wasn't wearing that ear hat." Sherlock huffed. "I don't know why everyone thinks I like that hat!"

"Well, you look good in it." I admitted as I took the whipped cream and caramel covered drink that he offered me. I frowned. "This isn't cocoa."

"No. This is something a little more special." He pulled the hat off and ran his hand through his curls. "They make the best apple cider."

I took a sip and instant heat shot through my body. "Mmmh, that's delicious."

He nodded. "I knew you'd like it." he took a sip of his. "Now, what's bothering you?"

"Are you asking me because you want to know or because John suggested you take me out?"

Sherlock frowned. "How'd you hear that?"

"Air vent."

"Of course." He exhaled. "I wish you hadn't heard that."

"Why?"

"Because now I have to try to convince you that this isn't John's idea. He said to take your mind off things, but I want to talk."

I sipped my cider. "You don't have to convince me. I'll take your word for it."

"So, has Moriarty contacted you?" I paused. "Has he?" I shook my head. "But he bothers you?" I nodded. "He's upset you?" Again I nodded. "Tammy, I know you call me 'Mind Reader,' but this time I'd prefer to hear you speak. What's upset you?"

"Sherlock, I'm scared." I confessed. "I feel like, I-I helped bring this about."

"Tammy, you haven't."

"Please, let me finish. He wouldn't be as angry towards you…if you hadn't turned his only relative away from him."

"He didn't bother looking you up Tammy." He reminded me. "He didn't care about you. If he did, if he truly loved you like a brother should, he would have given you his blessing, instead of blackmailing you into giving up a relationship."

I bit my lip and tears began to fill my eyes as I confessed the true nature of my depression. "I-I think that…he's right about…one thing."

"Don't start assuming he's right about anything." Sherlock said gently. "Otherwise everything's going to go downhill."

"I-I might….not be able to….have children." I confessed. "My birthmom….she suffered….five miscarriages before carrying me to full term. And after I was born…she was told she couldn't have anymore children."

Sherlock was quiet for a moment. "And…that concerns you?"

"Yes." I looked up at him, vexed at myself at the verge of tears. "I want to have children."

"Now?"

I looked down into my melted whipped cream. "Sometime, in the future." I began to drink my cider, which had cooled down. "I'd like to know….if; you'd like children as well." I couldn't look at him, because I didn't want him to see the hurt in my eyes if he said he didn't want children. "You haven't told me yet and…I guess I should have asked long before this."

Sherlock suddenly stood up. "Come on."

I frowned as he took my hand and pulled me out of the seat. I looked up to see a group of reporters about to enter the coffee shop. He pulled me out through the back door and we ran throughout the streets. Sherlock applied his mental map and about two minutes later; he'd gotten us back onto Baker Street. The reporters were still after us, but they were pretty far behind since Sherlock had taken an unusual route back to Baker's Street. We made it safely back inside the house before they got any photos of interest.

Sherlock kicked the door in aggravation. "I bet it was that bloody clerk!"

"It's all right Sherlock." I turned and began walking up the stairs slowly as I let out a cough.

"You ok?"

I nodded. "It's nothing big, just a cough because of the cold," I assured him. "not stress."

"Good."

I paused at the floor where his flat was and pulled off my coat, it wasn't my heaviest, so it had gotten soaked through. I peeled out of the coat and shook my wet hair. "I love the rain, but I hate to come out of it." Sherlock stepped towards me, letting his coat, scarf and hat, fall from his hands to the floor. "I think you left John's hat at the restaurant."

"Who cares?" I flushed under 'that gaze' the gaze where he was taking in every single inch of my body. I glanced down at myself, finding my wet clothes were sticking to me. "Can I have you?" My heart jumped in my chest at his demanding question that was completely out of the blue for me. "I must have you." I bit my lip and Sherlock kissed me. I reached up and stroked those fine cheeks of his. "If you'd intended to tell me "No," then you really shouldn't bite your lip. So, how about it?"

"I'm yours to take." I stepped away from him and backed up the stairs as Sherlock undid his suit jacket, letting it fall to the floor. He then unbuttoned his shirt, slowly and deliberately, before reaching out and gripping my hips. I gasped as I tripped on the final step and fell flat on my back. Sherlock was ontop of me instantly. "Not…here." I gasped out. Sherlock kissed me and I let out a garble. Sherlock grabbed at the zipper on the side of my skirt gave it a hard enough pull to tear it. "Sherlock!"

"I'll buy you a new one."

I backed away from Sherlock as he cut off my protests with a kiss. The carpet and the backing up actions pulled my skirt off. I backed up into the door of my flat with a loud bang. I moaned as he grabbed ahold of my shirt and began to pull it up over my head. I shook my head in protest as he threw it on the floor. "Inside...flat." He smothered my mouth in a kiss and grasped my hips, tearing my underwear from me. I protested. "Sherlock!" He gripped my hips, nudged my legs apart before settling himself between my legs. Sweat dripped down my forehead as Sherlock's hands went to his belt.

"Sherlock?" John called up the stairs. "That you?"

"Damn it." he growled as he jumped up from the ground. He leaned over the balcony and shouted. "What?!"

I lay there, completely naked on the ground, totally stunned by what had just happened. Sherlock couldn't even wait to get me inside my room. I gasped as I got up carefully from the floor, my clothes littering the hall. I wasn't going to retrieve it with John out on the stairs below! I opened my flat door and stumbled inside. I couldn't believe it; Sherlock was actually going to have sex with me in the hall! Sure, we were on the last floor, but what if John had come up instead of calling him? Not to mention we have people drop in from time to time!

John sounded confused. "I heard a thud and a bang."

"What do you want? And make it fast!" Sherlock whipped around and snapped at me, his eyes blazing. "Tammy, you stay right there!" I jumped at the tone in his voice. "Don't move!"

"There's a case," John stuttered. "a murder."

"Right. Be down in a few minutes."

"Why are your clothes on the stairs? And you're…not wearing an uhm, shirt."

I blushed in embarrassment. Sherlock shouted down at him. "Will you mind your own business?!"

"Sherlock!" I reprimanded him. "John was only," Sherlock spun around and stomped towards me, my heart thudded in my chest and I jumped as he slammed the door behind him. "Sherlock. You've got to-

"The person's dead," he pulled the belt from around his waist, dropping it to the floor. "they won't be going anywhere."

Sherlock grabbed me around the waist and pulled me back down onto the floor. I turned aside from the kisses he was showering on me and gasped out. "Bedroom."

"No time." His hands went to free himself from the confines of the clothes.

"Sherlock." He gripped my hips, forced them wide apart before entering me in one hard thrust. I groaned as he gripped my wrists, pinning my hands behind my head. My heart is beating rapidly, out of control. "The case, don't you think-

"Do you want that baby or not?" My eyes widened and I stared at Sherlock. He paused in his ministrations long enough to get my attention. I'd never expected that I'd hear those words from his mouth so I stared at him dumbly for the longest time. "Well?" He repeated. "Do you want that baby?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"Now, shall we get busy and concentrate on that task at hand?" I nodded. "Good." He began moving inside me inpatiently. "Now," he titled his head to the side. "have I your permission to resume my assault on your simply delectable body before I have to go to that murder scene?"

I laughed lightly and nodded. "By all means Mr. Holmes." He began moving inside me while showering me with kisses as I closed my eyes and moaned. "By all means."


	35. 35: The day of reckoning

Chapter Thirty-five: The day of reckoning

* * *

_Two months later_

* * *

I was sick. I'd stayed out in the night air and the rain a bit too much and I'd contracted the flu. I was stuck in bed for a few days, Sherlock appointed John my personal doctor and I was to listen to John and no arguing. This was the first time Sherlock took John's side over mine and I wasn't sure that I liked that all that much! Still, at least Sherlock didn't abandon me completely. He'd read to me, play his violin, watch videos and tell me everything that going to happen before it happened. We'd play games and he'd let me win, one out of every ten. When he had a case, he'd send me occasional texts and I'd help him a bit.

Then one day, I heard Lestrade and Sally come into the house and they sounded agitated. I sluggishly got up from the bed, grabbed my robe and went to open the door. I pushed the bedroom door open and all eyes went towards me.

Sherlock frowned. "Back to bed, you look awful."

"Thank you Sherlock." I nodded at Greg and Sally. "Afternoon."

Greg nodded. "Afternoon. You should go back to bed, you look tired."

"I've been in bed for days."

"Sherlock," John said as he came into the room. "there's something weird," John paused. "what's going on?"

"Kidnapping."

"Rufus Brule," Lestrade explained. "the ambassador to the U.S."

"He's in Washington, isn't he?" John asked.

"Not him, his children, Max and Claudette," Greg explained. "aged seven and nine. They're at Subordates."

Sally said. "Posh boarding house down in surrey."

"School broke up; all the other boarders went home. Just a few kids remained, including those two."

"The kids have vanished."

"The ambassador's asked for you personally."

Sherlock stood up and walked past them. "The 'Reichenbach' hero." Sally commented smugly.

"He really doesn't appreciate being called that." I said. "Heroes don't exist, and if they did, he wouldn't be one." Everyone looked at me in surprise. "His words, not mine."

Sherlock nodded at me. "Thank you Tammy, now, shall we be going?" he turned and spun on his heel and turned towards the stairs.

"Isn't it great to be working with a celebrity?" Lestrade asked sarcastically, as he walked out of the flat.

"Sherlock?" I called. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Sherlock glanced at himself for a moment before snapping his fingers. "Right." He dashed back up the stairs; he grabbed his scarf and coat. "Thank you." He started to walk away, but stopped and turned towards me. "Almost forgot something."

He leaned forward and kissed me deeply. I smiled and wrapped my arms around his neck. He took his time before breaking the kiss. "Won't you get sick?"

He shook his head. "I doubt if you're still contagious."

I kissed him on the mouth again before stepping aside. "Good luck. And don't be too hard to get along with!"

He rolled his eyes. "Fine. But you'll never know."

He turned and trotted down the stairs with the others in tow. The minute the door shut, I went up the stairs to my flat determined to follow them down to the school.

* * *

The police hadn't blocked the road off so the taxi driver was able to pull directly up to the school. I noticed John, Sherlock, Greg, John and Sally walking towards the building. I paid the driver and listened to Greg talking. "This Miss Mackenzie, house mistress, go easy.

Sherlock walked up to the grieving woman and spoke calmly. "Miss Mackenzie, you're in charge of pupil welfare, yet you left this place wide open last night!" My head whipped towards Sherlock as his tone rose in anger. "What are you? An idiot, a drunk or a criminal?!" Now, Sherlock was shouting at her and he whipped the blanket off her shocked, shaking shoulders and shouted in her face. "Now quickly! Tell me!"

I don't know how Miss Mackenzie was able to speak, much less refrain from keeling over in shock. "All the doors and windows were properly bolted. No one, not even me, went into their room last night. You have to believe me!"

Sherlock nodded and spoke calmly to her. "I do. I just wanted you to speak quickly." He then addressed the officers. "Miss Mackenzie will need to breathe into a bag now." Sherlock turned and noticed me approaching, he glowered. "Tammy, go home."

"No." I said as I buried my hands into my jacket pockets. "I've been stuck up in that flat for days and I must have some fresh air or I'll go insane." He started to object but I cut him off. "One word and I'll make you apologize to Miss Mackenzie."

I won. He shook his head as he walked away. I walked up to Miss Mackenzie who was sobbing hysterically. I wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and attempted to soothe her. "I am so, so, sorry for his rude behavior."

"I don't know anything."

"I know." I said gently. "Now, calm down. Everything is going to be all right." I rubbed her shoulders. "He should have the children back within a day or so. He will, I promise you that." She blinked and looked up at me, unconvinced. "He's unethical, but he's very smart in some ways, and equally stupid in others."

"Who are you?"

I bit my lip and confessed. "I'm his wife."

Her eyes widened. "Oh! I'm so sorry for you."

I nodded and smiled. "You and everyone else in the world he's offended, and I'm not even going to guess at that amount of people."

"Tammy?" Sherlock shouted out a window. "Are you coming up here?"

"Yes!" I turned and hurried into the building. John was waiting for me at the foot of the stairs that led up to the next story. "Don't say anything."

"I was actually going to suggest that you get out of bed today." John said. "But don't overdo it."

"Yes doctor."

"Six grand a term." John commented. "you'd expect them to keep the kids safe, wouldn't you?"

I nodded. "I would."

I watched as Sherlock began checking the little girl's dresser and under her bed. John continued talking. "Said the other kids had all left on their holidays?"

"They were the only two sleeping on this floor." Greg said. "There's absolutely no sign of a break in. the intruder must have been hidden inside someplace." Sherlock dropped the lacrosse stick, causing me to jump slightly. Sherlock then went towards the toy chest and opened it. When he paused, I walked towards him. I watched as he pulled a book from an envelope, Grimm's fairytales. His eyes clouded for a moment and I wondered if there was something about the book that he knew, that I didn't know. After examining the book, he dropped it in the chest and slammed the lid down and stood up.

"Show me where the brother slept." He took off walking down the hall, but he seemed to know exactly which room the boy was, possibly because the door was open. I watched his face as he took in every inch of the room, the boy was a detective in training, and obvious by the sight of all those spy books he had. Sherlock turned, spreading his arms out wide. "Boy sleeps there every night, gazing out at the only light source outside in the corridor. He'd recognize every shape, every outline, the silhouette of everyone who came to the door."

"Ok, so?" Greg asked.

"He'd know something was wrong." I supplied quietly.

"So someone approaches the door who he doesn't recognize," Sherlock said as he approached the door to prove his point. "an intruder. Maybe he can even see the outline of a weapon." Sherlock closed the door, and brought his hands up to shape a gun. Sure enough, all of us could see the outline very distinctly. "What'd he do?" he asked as he came into the room. "In the precious few seconds before they came into the room, how would he use them if not to cry out? This little boy? This particular little boy, who reads all of those spy books, what would he do?"

"He'd leave a sign?" John said.

I nodded. "Obviously."

"Don't do that Tammy." John said quietly. "You're starting to sound like Sherlock."

Sherlock sniffed loudly and I turned towards John. "It was obvious and I am not starting to sound like Sherlock."

Then, two words came out of Sherlock's mouth that I hadn't' thought I'd ever hear. "Get Andersen."

* * *

I was still staring at Sherlock in surprise when the room was darkened and Sherlock used a fluorescent lamp to reveal that the boy had written words on the wall. _Help us. _The words tugged at my heart and I felt sympathy for the parent's sake. Unconsciously, my hand moved protectively over my stomach. Even though I wasn't pregnant, I could imagine how the parents must feel, especially the mother, to have her children that she'd carried inside her for almost nine months, snatched from her and taken to places unknown.

"Linseed oil." Sherlock said.

"Not much use." Andersen said. "Doesn't lead us to the kidnapper."

Sherlock continued looking around the room. "Brilliant, Andersen."

Andersen fell for it. "Really?"

"Yes." Sherlock said sharply. "Brilliant impression of an idiot. Floor."

"He made a trail for us." John said.

"Boy was made to walk ahead of them."

"On tiptoe?" John asked.

"Indicates anxiety, gun held to his head."

"Oh God." I whispered.

Sherlock and everyone moved into the hall. "The girl is pulled beside him, dragged sideways. He had his left arm cradled about her neck."

"That's the end of it." Andersen said. "We don't know where they went from here. Tells us nothing, after all."

"You were right Andersen, nothing." Sherlock said. "Except for his shoe size, his height, his weight and his walking gait." Sherlock then pulled the dark paper off the window, shedding light on the situation in more ways than one.

I watched as Sherlock knelt happily on the floor and began digging the painted wood up. "Having fun?" John asked.

Sherlock nodded. "Starting to."

"Maybe don't do the smiling." John pointed out. "Kidnapped children?"

"Good point John." Suddenly, I began to feel really nauseous, like I was going to vomit. Then the hall started to swim before my eyes. I looked around. "Where do you think the nearest bathroom is?"

"You ok?" John asked.

"I feel a bit sick but…. I think it's because it's…really hot in here."

Sherlock paused. "It's freezing in here Tammy."

"I'm fine." And that was the last thing I said before I fainted dead away.

I awoke to find my head in Sherlock's lap, John and Greg were leaning over me. I groaned. "Don't tell me I fainted."

"Yeah, you did." Sherlock stated. "Don't move just yet. John?"

He shrugged. "I don't see any reason for her passing out. She is a little warm, maybe just complications from the flu. You should go back home."

"I'm fine."

"And that's why I'm picking you up off the floor?" Sherlock asked as he brushed a strand of hair back from my face.

Bile welled up in me and I rolled onto my side. "Sorry." I began throwing up and I was mortified as I threw up all over Andersen's shoes. He began complaining as I threw up liquid. I hadn't eaten breakfast yet, so I didn't really know what I was throwing up. My vomiting ceased after a few moments.

"Let's get her to a chair," John advised. "I texted an associate of mine and I made an appointment for you to have a thorough exam tomorrow at Bart's."

"I'm not going to argue." I rasped. "I'm going to go home."

"Right."

Sherlock leaned forward to kiss me and I jerked my head to the side. "Don't you dare, I taste terrible."

He kissed my forehead. "Now, go home, rest, take your medicine and for God's sake, do what I'm asking you."

"Fine. But I'll have to wait for a taxi."

"Agreed. Keep an eye on her Lestrade."

"Right. You could lie down in a car." Greg offered as he took ahold of my arm.

I shook my head. "I'm not tired. I've been sleeping the days away."

"You're sick." John said. "The sooner your body rests, the sooner you'll recover."

"I'm going to miss out on everything."

"I'll call you when we find the kids." Sherlock said. "I'll see you home later tonight."

When Sherlock said later, he meant later. I spent the entire day sleeping, reading and eating dry toast. That appeared to be the only thing that I could keep down. Then, at 9:00, my cell phone went off and there was a message for me. I was expecting it to be from Sherlock, but what I read instead chilled me to the bone. _You cursed the day I was born. Be sure you cursed the day that you loved Sherlock Holmes._

That's when my world blackened. Moriarty, he was back, and the day of reckoning was upon Sherlock and I now.


	36. 36: Trapped in an hourglass

Chapter Thirty-six: Trapped in an hourglass

* * *

My hands shook as I pulled on a long sleeved, deep blue dress over my head. I grabbed a pair of heels and had just gotten my feet into them when I heard Sherlock walking rapidly upstairs to his flat. I jumped up and raced out of my flat and hurried downstairs.

I arrived in his flat to see that he was sitting at the table with his laptop on. "Four assassins living right on our doorstep. They didn't come here to kill me; they have to keep me alive." He is completely focused on something, so I debate showing him Moriarty's text or not. "I've got something that all of them want, but if one of them approaches me."

John commented from his position by the window. The others kill them before they can get it.

Sherlock grunts in agreement. "All of the attention is focussed on me. There's a surveillance web closing in on us right now."

I asked. "So what do you have that's so important?"

Sherlock thinks for a moment, and then runs his finger along the table before looking at his finger. "We need to ask about the dusting." He then shouted loudly. "Mrs. Hudson!"

I groaned. "I'll get her."

Sherlock shook his head. "She's watching the telly; she'll be up in a moment."

John glanced at me. "How are you feeling?"

"Creeped out."

"I mean any improvement from today?"

"Oh! Uhm, I guess so."

Mrs. Hudson appeared in her nightdress and dressing gown. Sherlock is checking for dust. He begins stalking around the room, checking all sorts of places. "Precise details, in the last week, what's been cleaned?"

Mrs. Hudson looks a little stunned, but she catches on quickly. "Well, Tuesday I did your lino."

"No, in here, this room." Sherlock cut her off. "This is where we'll find it, any break in the dust line. You can put back anything but dust." He twirls his finger dramatically in the air. "Dust is eloquent."

"Is that why you don't dust your flat yourself?"

He ignores me and Mrs. Hudson looks at John. "What's he on about?"

John shakes his head and I watch as Sherlock begins climbing on the furniture to look more closely at the top shelves. "Cameras." I walked towards him. "We're being watched."

"What? Cameras?" Poor Mrs. Hudson cringes in embarrassment. "Here? I'm in my nightie!"

The doorbell rings and she hurries out of the room and John follows her. "I hope it hasn't been there long since you and I've been...christening the furniture."

"I doubt it's been installed for more than a few days, so you're safe." Sherlock has climbed down from the left bookshelf and now begins to examine his skull, and then he climbs onto small tables to look at the other bookshelves. As he begins checking the books on the top shelf, I stand behind him, placing a hand on the small of his back. "Tammy."

"I don't want you to fall."

Sherlock begins to wiggle a book and his eyes narrow. He removes the book and hands it to me. "Here." I take it, but still keep him braced with my other hand. I hear footsteps and turn around as Greg comes into the room with John. Sherlock is concentrating on removing the camera, but he still knows who is in the room. "No, Inspector."

Greg frowns. "What?"

Sherlock steps down with the small camera in hand. "The answer's no."

I frowned at the cat and mouse game going on between them. "But you haven't heard the question!" Greg said.

Sherlock frowned. "You want to take me to the station. Just saving you the trouble of asking."

I frowned. "Why would you need to go to the station?"

Greg sucks in a breath. "Sherlock."

"The scream?" Sherlock interrupts him.

"Yeah." Greg nods.

I look to John. "What scream? What's going on here?"

"Who was it?" He asked. "Donovan? I bet it was Donovan. Am I somehow responsible for the kidnapping?"

I stared at them. "What?"

"Ah, Moriarty is smart." Sherlock said as he approached Greg slowly. "He planted that doubt in her head; that little nagging sensation. You're gonna have to be strong to resist. You can't kill an idea, can you? Not once it's made a home," he reaches forward and places a finger on Greg's forehead, between his eyes. "there."

Greg sighs. "Will you come?"

My mouth drops open. "You can't be serious Greg!"

"I'm afraid so Tammy." He looked tired. "I've got to."

Sherlock turns away and sits down at the laptop. "One photograph, that's his next move. Moriarty's game. First, the scream, then a photograph of me being taken in for questioning. He wants to destroy me inch by inch." Sherlock looks at Greg for a moment. "It's a game, Lestrade, and not one I'm willing to play." He looked away. "Give my regards to Sergeant Donovan."

With a sigh, Greg turns and heads off down the stairs. I stare at Sherlock and John for a moment before going after Greg. "Greg?" I call and he stops halfway down. "What's going on?" I ask as I approach him. "I need to know."

He exhaled. "Sherlock found the children."

"That's good."

"And…the girl," he shifted uncomfortably. "she, started screaming, the moment she saw Sherlock. No reason at all."

I stared at him for a moment as his words sunk into my mind. It took me less than thirty seconds to have figured everything out. I replied calmly. "My husband," I put special emphasis on my term of endearment. "is a very clever man. And if he were involved with the kidnapping, he certainly wouldn't be stupid enough to incriminate himself by walking into the room with his victim after she'd been rescued." I turned and hurried back up the stairs. "Tell that to Sergeant Donovan."

"Hang on," he said. "I thought you and Sally were friends."

"You said the perfect word Greg. You said 'were' and that's exactly it. We _were _friends." I spoke seriously. "But I can never, ever, be friends with _anyone _who speaks against my husband in any way, shape or form. She's gone too far this time."

I walked into the flat and shut the door. John walked over to the window and looked outside. I could just imagine Greg getting into his car. Sherlock was the first to speak. "They'll be deciding."

John asked. "Deciding?"

"Whether to come back with a warrant and arrest me."

I stared at him. "You're kidding!"

Sherlock didn't even look up from his laptop. "It's standard procedure."

"Greg walked me down the aisle at our wedding! There is no way he'd actually arrest you in front of me!"

"People can't afford to be sentimental in their jobs." Sherlock stated conversationally.

I groaned. "Why are you always so calm in situations like this!?"

"You should have gone with him." John said. "People will think-

"I don't care what people think." Sherlock stated.

"Obviously." I said as I sat down in his favorite chair, crossing my arms over my chest.

"You'd care if they thought you were stupid or wrong." John pointed out.

"No. That would just make them stupid or wrong."

"Sherlock," the words burst out of John. "I don't want the world believing you're-

John stopped, catching himself. But he'd caught Sherlock's full attention now. "That I am what?" Sherlock's voice is quiet and cautious.

John is silent for a long time, before he replies. "A fraud."

Sherlock studies John before exhaling and rocking back in his seat. "You're worried they're right."

"What?"

"You're worried they're right about me."

"No." John shook his head.

"That's why you're so upset. You can't even entertain the possibility that they might be right. You're afraid that you've been taken in as well."

"No I'm not."

"Moriarty is playing with your mind too." Sherlock slammed the table with his fist and he shouted at John. I jumped out of my chair, ready for anything if the situation escalated. "Can't you see what's going on!?"

But it didn't. John stood there calmly, with all the façade of a heroic soldier looking death in the face. "No," he said calmly and firmly. "I know you're for real."

John looked back out the window while Sherlock looked back down at his laptop. "A hundred percent?"

"Nobody can fake being such an annoying dick all the time." John added hastily. "Sorry Tammy."

"Accepted."

Sherlock turned to me. "And what about you Tammy? Are you entertaining the possibilities as well?"

"The last time you doubted something Sherlock Holmes, we had our first fight. Don't you dare start doubting me, or we'll have the biggest fight of our lives."

"Don't avoid the question. Answer me."

I stepped towards him and kissed him. He was hot and tense, I could feel that. But I also felt some of the tension leave his body at my kiss. I pulled away and ran my hand down his cheek. His eyes studied me with an intense gaze. "No one Sherlock, not even you, could convince me to doubt in you Sherlock Holmes. You're the most intelligent man I've ever known. Granted, you're a little stupid because you doubt how deep John and my devotion to you is. John is your best and most loyal friend you'll ever have. Me, I'm your wife, your helpmeet, and _nothing_ can break the bond between us. Believe that. I love you desperately, and it would have to be God himself who could cause me to doubt you."

I walked away from him and went to the kitchen. I brought him a water bottle and handed it to him. He stared at my hand for a while before taking it. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." It was then I remembered my message from Moriarty. I pulled out my phone and showed him the message. "I got this right before you got home. It's from him."

Sherlock studied the phone and he was silent before responding. "You are involved now Tammy. Part of the final problem."

"Why does he call it the final problem?" I asked. "What does he mean by final?"

Sherlock didn't answer me and his silence told me what my heart all ready knew. This was a duel of the minds and only one would survive. I now realized that we were trapped in an hourglass, with only so much time to break free before we ran out of time.


	37. 37: The grand escape

Chapter Thirty-seven: The grand escape

* * *

The tension was killing me; Sherlock sat in his chair quietly, deep in thought. John moved from his chair, to the window, to the kitchen, and then back to his chair. When John's phone rang, I almost fell off the arm of Sherlock's chair. He reached out, grasping my hip and steadied me without turning a hair.

"Hello." John's face grew serious and he nodded. "Right. Thank you." He lowered his cell phone from his ear and turned it off. He turns to Sherlock. "So, still got some friends on the Force. It's Lestrade. Says they're all coming over here right now, queuing up to slap on the handcuffs." My heart jumped up in my chest. "Every single officer you ever made feel like a tit, which is a lot of people."

As always, Sherlock appears to be taking no notice of John. I turned towards him; he wasn't planning to get out of that chair, much less run away.

Mrs. Hudson knocked on the door, causing me to jump. She seems a little oblivious the tension in the room. "Oh, sorry, am I interrupting?" Sherlock rolls his eyes and looks away, so she addresses John. "Some chap delivered a parcel. I forgot. Marked 'Perishable' – I had to sign for it." John takes the package from her and I immediately recognize the wax seal over the flap.

I stand up. "Sherlock, that's the same seal from the kidnap case."

"Funny name." Mrs. Hudson says. "German, like the fairytales."

Sherlock walks forward, as John pulls out the contents of the package. Outside, I now hear the sounds of sirens and several approaching vehicles. I'd beg Sherlock to run, but that's not his style. In John's hand is a large gingerbread man but it's burnt.

Sherlock studied it before responding dryly. "Burnt to a crisp."

John as always, didn't really see the picture. The sirens have stopped and I hear people getting out of the cars, slamming doors behind them. "What does it mean?"

"Time's up." I reply quietly at the same moment the doorbell rings and the police officers begin pounding at the door.

"I'll go." Mrs. Hudson offers. She turns and hurries down the stairs.

John turns and walks out of the flat to join Mrs. Hudson and to give Sherlock and I some privacy. Sherlock calmly turns around and picks up his scarf and loops it around his neck. "You're taking this rather well." He said.

I bit my lip. "I am crying, just…on the inside."

"I'm surprised that you haven't asked me to take off out a window."

"I have," he turns and looks at me. "in my mind, not out loud. I know you, I know you'd never run from anything. You know what you're doing and I trust you. But...I'm having a hard time regardless anyway."

He smiles faintly and gets into his coat. I step forward and button up his coat. John is apparently blocking the stairs halfway up. "Have you got a warrant?" he demands angrily. "Have you?"

Greg snaps. "Leave it, John."

Moments later, Greg stands in front of him and reads him his rights while an officer attaches handcuffs to his left wrist. "Sherlock Holmes, I'm arresting you on suspicion of abduction and kidnapping." The officer pulls Sherlock's left hand behind his back in order to cuff his other wrist.

"Is this necessary?" I demand.

"He's not resisting." John said.

"It's all right, John." He turned towards me. "It's all right."

"He's not resisting. No, it's not all right." John just wouldn't give up though. "This is ridiculous."

Greg surprised me by actually getting into John's face and pointing at him. "Don't try to interfere," he said sternly. "or I shall arrest you too." He turned towards me, with the same expression on his face. "That goes for you too Tammy."

Greg addresses the officer who's got Sherlock. "Get him downstairs now."

The officer spins Sherlock around and roughly marches him towards the door. All my efforts to be brave threaten to crumble. "Greg! Wait! Just a minute! Please! Can't I even-

"No." he says firmly.

I make my request again. "I'd like to kiss my husband goodbye."

"No." he repeated firmly.

Greg!" I pleaded as tears filled my eyes. "Please!"

"For God's sake," John shouted. "it's not going to hurt anything! Have you forgotten that you walked her down the aisle at their wedding! You've just arrested him in front of her! Don't you have any decency to grant her 30 seconds to kiss her husband goodbye?"

I watched as Greg exhaled and called. "Hold it!"

Sally stared at him. "You're not actually-

"Shut up." John snapped at her. "It's not going to do any harm."

The officers came back into the room, with Sherlock in tow. "All right." Greg said. "Step aside, let her kiss him goodbye."

Sherlock's brows rose as I threw my arms around Sherlock's neck and hugged him. "Always a dramatic moment Tammy?" he said. "You even have an audience."

"You didn't think of kissing me goodbye and I don't know when I'm going to get this opportunity again."

"Well, shall we make it one that they remember?"

I shook my head and kissed him stretching up on tiptoe and pressing my fingers into his shoulders. Sherlock traced his tongue over my lips and I parted my lips, granting him access to my mouth. Suddenly, he used his chest and pushed me back against the wall, pinning me against the wall. For a brief few moments, I forgot about the audience, there was just us. I groaned as he worked his mouth hard against mine. Then someone, either John or Greg cleared their throat. I shook my head as I moved back so our foreheads touched. "I can't believe this is happening!"

Sherlock nuzzled my face with his nose. "It's all right Tammy. Everything's all right." He whispered. "Trust me."

"Take him away." Greg said.

As the officers stepped towards us, I straightened Sherlock's hair a little before grabbing onto his coat lapels, kissing him quickly, and biting him firmly on his lower lip. I felt him jump under my touch and his eyes widened as we were pulled apart. I felt John's hands on my shoulders, keeping me from following after him.

"You better get out of this mess fast!" I called after him, my voice cracking with tears that were desperate to fall.

"Look after her Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock called over his shoulder. "be sure that she takes her medicine."

I covered my mouth and turned aside as tears poured down my cheeks. "Oh, that man!" I turned to face John. "Every day, a little death."

John offered me a hug and I accepted it. I closed my eyes as he swayed me back and forth. John was stronger than Sherlock, but he couldn't make me feel safe and secure like Sherlock could. I felt a hand on my shoulder and spun around to see Greg. I didn't say a word, I let my eyes speak for me and Greg took his hand off me.

"I am sorry Tammy." He said quietly. "You know I wouldn't hurt you for the world."

"When you don't want me to die for the world, let me know." I said tightly. "Because if this isn't hurt, it must be death."

John murmurs quietly. "You did very well. I'm proud of you."

"I didn't want him to see me cry."

John turns to Sally who is standing near the door. "You done?"

Sally looks smug and to pleased as punch as she walks into the room. "Oh, I said it. First time we met."

John glowers at her. "Don't bother."

I frown. "What did she say?"

"Solving crimes won't be enough. One day he'll cross the line." Now, ask yourself," she looks pointedly. "what sort of man would kidnap those kids just so he can impress us all by finding them?"

Mrs. Hudson gasps and John isn't able to stop me as I launch myself at Sally, grab ahold of her hair and pull. "You crazy, bloody, witch!" Sally screams as I pull. Greg grabs ahold of Sally; John grabs ahold of me. Both men shout at us, while they pull us apart. As I'm pulled away, Sally is definitely missing a handful of hair in one spot. "How dare you!" I shout. "Get out! Get out now!"

"Look, calm down."

"Don't you _dare _tell me to calm down Lestrade!" I shout. "Bloody hell, are you really all such idiots?! Can't you see what's happening?"

"Donovan?" I spin around to see a strange man intruding. If I'd thought anything negative about Mycroft, I mentally took everything back as I saw this man. He was the definition of the word snob.

Sally straightens and brushes her clothes back into order. "Sir." She hastily wipes her eyes, I can't keep the smile off my face in pleasure that I'd caused her some pain.

"Got our man?"

I shoot Sally a glare and she takes a step back "Yes, sir."

"Looked a bit of a weirdo, if you ask me." I turn my anger towards that man. "Often are these vigilante types."

"Why you bastard! You bastard!" I flung myself at the fat man, ready to hit him in the nose and kick him right between the legs but Lestrade caught me. "Oh, let me go!"

"No." He said as he struggled to get me to calm down. "I won't!"

"This is my flat!"

"Sherlock's." Lestrade reasoned.

"My husbands!" I shouted. "I will not allow anyone to remain in my flat any longer! You arrested him! Now everyone, get the Hell out of here now and take this snobbish, bean-belly, fat, pompous, tub of lard out of my sight!"

The man drew back from me as if I were insane to attack him because he called my husband a weirdo and vigilante in my presence. "What are you looking at?"

I looked up just as John threw a punch, hitting the man square in the nose! I laughed as the man groaned. "Thank you John!" Blood came instantly flowing out of the man's nose and down his shirt.

"Pleasure Tammy." He said flecking his knuckles before hitting the man again.

Greg groaned and snapped. "Why'd you have to do that?"

"Oh don't ask him such an obvious question." I snapped as I folded my arms across my chest. "I'd be questioning John's loyalty if he _didn't _break that guy's nose."

"Yeah." Sally said dryly. "Except I wouldn't go around punching the Chief Superintendent!"

The blood drained from my face. "Oh God. I'm sorry John."

John shrugged it off as two officers grabbed him and marched him down the stairs. "I'd it again."

I groaned and turned to the others. Sally was moving towards my kitchen and I snapped. "Get out of my kitchen!"

She glowered at me. "I'm getting some towels and water."

"No." I stated. "Get out. You came here with orders to arrest Sherlock. Nothing else. This is my flat and none of you are welcome here. Nor, are you welcome to take anything. Get out! Or I shall file a complaint with Scotland Yard that several officers took things from my flat without permission."

"It's just a paper towel." Greg said.

"That I bought and paid for with my money. I didn't give you permission to help yourself to anything. You are not my guests. Now get out! Let him use his personal hankie on his nose! Now get out!"

Greg exhaled and nodded at Sally. "Let's go."

Everyone shuffled out of the room. I paced back and forth, while Mrs. Hudson looked on. "I can't believe this."

"Neither can I." I was close to blowing up. "I can't believe this! They're actually falling for Moriarty's plan!" I kicked Sherlock's table in aggravation. "I don't even know what Sherlock's got going on his mind and that's what's frying me at the moment! I don't know what's going on!"

Suddenly, there was a loud feedback and I raced to the window to see what had happened. Sherlock had a gun, which he must have grabbed from an officer in the chaos. "Ladies and gentlemen," as he began backing away, I observed that he was handcuffed to John. "will you all please get on your knees?" no one seems to believe him until he fires twice into the air. "_Now_ would be good!"

Lestrade shouts. "Do as he says!"

John proclaims loudly. "J-just so you're aware, the gun is his idea. I'm just, uh, you know."

Sherlock switches the gun from his handcuffed hand and points the loaded gun at John's head. "My hostage!"

"Oh, please." I begged. "Don't accidentally shoot him in the head! So much for gun safety!"

John nods. "Hostage, yes, that works. That works."

As they slowly back around a corner, I notice a building with a new graffiti painting on it. The words, IOU, painted in red against a pair of black angel wings, obviously a message from Moriarty.

The two of them take off running and relief washes over me. "He got away!" I pound the window ledge in relief. "Oh, he got away!"

The chief superintendent shouts. "Get after him Lestrade!" he then turns and spies me looking out the window down at them. "Get her too!" He shouted. "Arrest her for aiding a criminal!"

"Right." I said to Mrs. Hudson. "Time to go. I'm going to go out a window upstairs. Stall them if you can, but please, don't go to jail."

"Don't worry dear." She said shooing me away. "Go! And hurry!"

I ran up the flat stairs, entered my flat, closed the door, grabbed my coat and ran up towards the roof. I could hear Mrs. Hudson crying that she'd fallen and hurt her hip. I shook my head, reminding myself to hug her when I saw her again.

I got out ontop of the roof and began plotting out a map in my mind. I could jump onto the opposite roof, scale down their fire escape, then use Sherlock's and my escape route that we'd used to avoid the reporters. I took off my heels, stuffed them in my pocket, inhaled deeply, took a run at the roof and landed safely on the other side. But I did trip and scrape my knee and hands.

I got up and went towards the fire escape. "I can't believe he's got me doing this again." I scaled down the escape and took the route Sherlock and I did. Once I arrived at the coffee shop, I turned around and realized that I'd actually made a clean escape. I coughed lightly. "Maybe you're rubbing off on me more than I realize." I rubbed my hands on my pants.

My phone went off and I grabbed it and answered it. "Sherlock?"

The laugh that was on the other end told me that it wasn't Sherlock. _Hullo Tammy._

"Go rot in hell you sick bastard! I snapped and hung up on him. My hands shook and I closed my eyes and phone went off again. I grabbed it and snapped. "I don't want to talk to you!" I shouted. "Stop calling!"

_Tammy?_ It was Sherlock.

"Sherlock!" I exhaled in relief. "Oh God! Are you all right?"

_Are you? John suggested I let you know I'm all right._

"By suggested, you mean ordered." I said. "I'm on the run. The chief superintendent wants me arrested as an accomplice."

_Where are you?_

"At the coffee shop."

_Look, I'm going to text you an address. I've got to go now. Meet us there._

"I will!" He hung up on me and I added, even though I knew he couldn't hear me. "I love you." I then dashed out into the street to flag down a taxi.


	38. 38: A night of many things

Chapter Thirty-eight: A night of many things

* * *

I hadn't grabbed my purse on the way out, but fortunately, I'd left it my wallet in my coat pocket. I paid the driver, ran up the stairs and tapped on the number of the flat that Sherlock had directed me to. The door opened and Sherlock was on the other end.

I fairly jumped up into his arms. "Thank God. You're all right."

He pulled away and examined my hands. "You cut your hands."

"I jumped off a roof."

His eyes widened. "You jumped off a roof?"

I nodded. "Yes. But I'm fine."

"Mr. Holmes," a woman said behind him. "can we get back to business so you can leave?" I turned and recognized the woman immediately. I saw the woman who'd come out of the men's bathroom when Moriarty was on trial. She didn't seem to remember me, but then she was focused on Sherlock. "I gave you your opportunity. I wanted to be on your side, remember? You turned me down, so-

Sherlock turned back towards her. "And then, behold, someone turns up and spills all the beans. How utterly convenient. Who is Brook?" She shook her head, refusing to answer him. Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, Kitty. No one trusts the voice at the end of a telephone. There are all those furtive little meetings in cafés; those sessions in the hotel room where he gabbled into your Dictaphone. How do you know that you can trust him? A man turns up with the Holy Grail in his pockets." Sherlock's tone turns stern. "What were his credentials?

The door behind me opens, smacking me and I move out of the way. Everyone turns towards the door and in walks…..Moriarty! He's unshaven, his hair messy and he's even wearing casual clothes. He's also carrying a shopping bag. "Darling," I start. He's calling her 'Darling,' but he's gay! "they didn't have any ground coffee so I just got normal." He then realizes that kitty isn't alone and his face turns into terror at the sight of Sherlock, whose eyes widen as well. He drops the shopping bag and backs into the wall. I watch in shock as he holds his hands up protectively in front of him. "You said that they wouldn't find me here." He snivels, sounding truly pathetic. "You said that I'd be safe here."

"You are safe, Richard." She says calmly. "I'm a witness. He wouldn't harm you in front of witnesses.

John is completely shocked as he points at Moriarty. "So that's your source? Moriarty is Richard Brook?!"

"Of course he's Richard Brook." Kitty says as if John's an idiot. "There is no Moriarty. There never has been."

"What are you talking about?" I demand.

"Look him up. Rich Brook, an actor Sherlock Holmes hired to be Moriarty."

Sherlock nodded, as he took in the whole situation. I stared at Moriarty and Kitty. "You're sick! You're absolutely delusional!"

Sherlock says nothing, but continues to stare at Moriarty. "Doctor Watson," he says in a pathetic, trembling voice. "I know you're a good man." He cowers under the heat of John's furious glare. "Don't ... don't hurt me."

John shouts at him. "No, you are Moriarty!" He then yells at Kitty. "He's Moriarty! We've met, remember? You were gonna blow me up!"

I nodded and shouted. "You also tried to shoot Sherlock as well! You tried to break us up!

Jim puts his hands briefly over his face, as if he were going to start crying. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He gestures towards Sherlock. "He paid me. I needed the work. I'm an actor. I was out of work."

"Oh, you're a damn, bloody actor!" I snap. "And don't I know it!"

"I'm sorry, okay?"

John turns to Sherlock. "Sherlock, you'd better ... explain ... because I am not getting this."

"Oh I'll be doing the explaining," Kitty states. "in print." She hands John a folder. "It's all here – conclusive proof."

I didn't even bother looking. "Don't bother John," I said, it's all lies.

"He invented all the crimes." Kitty looked at Sherlock. "You invented James Moriarty, your nemesis."

"Invented him?" I shouted.

Kitty nodded. "Invented all the crimes, actually, and to cap it all, you made up a master villain."

"Oh," John said. "don't be ridiculous!"

Kitty points at Jim. "Ask him. He's right here! Just ask him. Tell him, Richard."

"He's a liar!" I shouted. "A filthy liar!"

John shrieked. "Look, for God's sake, this man was on trial!"

"Yes," she points at Sherlock, who is still too bloody calm! "and you paid him; paid him to take the rap. Promised you'd rig the jury." Sherlock stares at her silently. Not a single word left his lips. "Not exactly a West End role, but I'll bet the money was good." She walks over to Jim and puts her arm around his shoulders. "But not so good he didn't want to sell his story."

"You're insane if you think he actually cares about you!" I spat. "He's gay!" she jumped. "If you think he cares about you, you're wrong! He loves nobody more than himself!"

Moriarty puts his hands together pleadingly. "I am sorry. I am. I am sorry Tammy. I-I never wanted to-

"Shut up!"

John turns to Kitty. "So this is the story that you're gonna publish. The big conclusion of it all: Moriarty's an actor?!"

"He knows I am. I have proof. I have proof. Show him, Kitty!" He pleads. "Show him something!"

"Yeah, show me something."

Kitty walks across the room. She misses the moment when Moriarty looks towards Sherlock, whose hasn't broken eye contact with him since he arrived. For a moment, he reveals his true self as he smirks triumphantly. Sherlock smiles back at him, but there's no humor in his eyes. Kitty hands John a folder. Moriarty slips back into his Mr. Pity Party mode. "I'm on TV. I'm on kids' TV. I'm The Storyteller." My head shoots up as I make the connection. Jim looks at Sherlock pleadingly. "Just tell him. It's all coming out now. It's all over." His voice becomes more frantic and I grow angry. I glance at Sherlock his hand is up and his fist is doubled as if he's fighting the temptation to hit Moriarty. "Just tell them. Just tell them. Tell him!" I feel Sherlock's anger flourish. "It's all over now" Sherlock takes a step forward and he shrieks. "NO!" He backs away from Sherlock and up a short flight of stairs. His eyes are wide and as much as I hated to give him credit, he's one hell of an actor. "Don't you touch me! Don't you lay a finger on me!"

Sherlock is furious and I tremble as he shouts. "Stop it. Stop it NOW!"

With that, Moriarty turns and bolts up the stairs. "Don't hurt me!"

"You bet your bloody, 'A' that we're going to hurt you! You bastard!" I shouted. "And I want a piece of you as well!"

Sherlock and John chase after him and I follow. "Don't let him get away!" John shouts.

Kitty shrieks. "Leave him alone!"

I turn around and deal with her. "You're a stupid idiot!"

"And who are you exactly?" she demands. "Saw you before at the trial."

"Moriarty is my brother, I grew up with him, so don't you dare tell me that there is no Moriarty! If you knew what's good for you, you'd take our words as gospel otherwise you'll look a fool." Sherlock and John hurry back. "He got away?"

"Yes."

"Let's go."

"No, no, no. He'll have back-up." Sherlock heads towards the stairs. Kitty doesn't move quickly out of his way.

"Do you know what, Sherlock Holmes? I look at you now and I can read you." Something in her tone causes him to stop at the bottom of the stairs as she gets into his face. "And you ... repel ... me."

Sherlock turns and heads out of the door. John, still holding the folder of the articles about Rich, follows him. "Sherlock's too polite, but I'm not. When people are trying to get by," I shove her. "you should get out of their way. And, tell your paper they better hold that story, or I am going to sue them for libel and I will win!"

"Oh really? And who are you?"

"I'm Tammy Taylor."

"Oh, you're that cabaret singer."

I smiled sweetly. "Yes. But I also happen to _own _the Taylor wine line." Her face stiffened. "Don't believe me? Do your research and I assure you, you won't be disappointed. If you go to print with that slanderous story, I swear, I will sue your paper out of business!"

I run after them as Kitty closes the door behind me. I find them in the street and Sherlock is pacing rapidly back and forth in the middle of the road. "Can he do that?" John asked. "Completely change his identity; make you the criminal?"

"He's got my whole life story." Sherlock is practically spitting the words out. "That's what you do when you sell a big lie; you wrap it up in the truth to make it more palatable."

"Your word against his."

"He's been sowing doubt into people's minds for the last twenty-four hours. There's only one thing he needs to do to complete his game, and that's to-

Sherlock stops dead in his tracks as he realizes something. John looks up at Sherlock, who had his back to John and I. "Sherlock?"

"There's something I need to do."

"What?" John asked. "Can I help?"

"No." he walked briskly away. "On my own."

I sighed as I watched his retreating figure. "Now what?"

John shrugged. "I've got to go see Mycroft about something."

I shook my head. "In that case, I'll take a walk. I won't go far." My phone went off and it was a text from Sherlock. _Meet me at Bart's lab in an hour. Molly will help you get inside. _"Sherlock wants to meet at Bart's lab in an hour."

"Why an hour, I wonder?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I wish I were a virus at times, that way I could sneak into that mind of his!"

John laughed. "Good one Tammy."

"Oh and, don't worry about her story. I threatened to sue for libel."

"You won't win."

"Don't bet on it John. When Sherlock say's he married me for my money, he wasn't really kidding. I happen to own the Taylor Wine Company. I'm loaded."

John's mouth dropped open in surprise. "Oh. Good…threat then." He laughed. "You are aware that you actually swore at Moriarty tonight right?"

I nodded. "Many times actually. It's been a night of many things. You better get going and see Mycroft if you're going to meet Sherlock back at Bart's."

"Right. You be careful though."

I nodded. "I will. Good luck with Mycroft."

"He's going to need it."

John mumbled as he turned and headed off in the opposite direction. I frowned and I studied John's posture as he turned and walked away from me. His whole stance gave the impression that he had a secret, and there was something about the secret that was bothering him. I turned and walked around, thoughts milling in my mind, I wasn't completely sure what was going on, but I had the gist of it. Both men were hiding something from me, and I didn't know what it was.


	39. 39: Another look

Chapter thirty-nine: Another look

* * *

I frowned as I entered Bart's, I glanced around and sure enough, molly was waiting for me. She gestured. "Follow me."

I nodded and hurried towards her. "Thank you. Where's Sherlock?"

"In the lab." She said. "You two should be fine overnight."

"Did John arrive yet?"

Molly frowned. "Sherlock said that you were the only one coming."

"Oh, but I texted John."

She shrugged. "Maybe he's contacting John."

We didn't say much else; there wasn't anything else to say as we approached the lab. Molly opened the door and Sherlock spun around. I approached him and hugged him. He surprised me by wrapping his arms around me, swaying back and forth before pressing a kiss on the top of my head. "You all right?"

I nodded. "I'm fine."

Molly cleared her throat uncomfortably. We pulled aside and molly handed Sherlock the keys. "Here. Are you sure you'll be all right?"

I nodded. "We'll be fine." I hugged her. "Thank you molly."

She smiled shyly. "I-I'm happy to help. Goodnight."

I watched her walk out of the lab with Sherlock behind her. But he stopped to lock the door of the lab. "When is John coming?" I asked.

"My text," he said quietly. "asked you to meet me here, not John." Sherlock sat on the ground with his back against the bench. "I sent John for an hour walk."

"I see." I got down onto the floor beside him.

He studied me. "Cold?"

"I'm fine." I assured him. "Honest."

Sherlock nodded his head and rubbed my shoulder. "Are you sure?"

"Yes Sherlock, I'm certain." He nodded and I closed my eyes, breathing in his scent. Sherlock shifted and I removed my head from his shoulder as he removed his coat. He laid his coat aside and he then turned, shifting towards me.

"Have you been happy Tammy?" he asked me quietly. "Since you married me?"

I nodded and nestled closer to him. "I was never happy until I met you Sherlock."

"If you could start again," he asked quietly asked took my hand in his. "live your life without me, what would you do?"

It didn't take much to answer that question. "I'd die an old maid."

He rolled his eyes. "Not logical." His grip on my fingers tightened. "Beautiful woman like you should attract the attention of hundreds of men."

"Boring." I mused. "I couldn't love anyone except you. I can't ever imagine loving anyone else but you." I squeezed his hand. "You've said it yourself on occasion, I am a romantic. Old-fashioned, but a romantic none the less. I look back at all the other men, and I realize that, no matter who they were, what they did, what they said, they just were never enough." I looked up into his eyes. "A simple touch from you is enough to satisfy me. You don't say you love me, so when you say words of affection, I take them to heart and treasure them more than the average woman who hears it every day."

Sherlock's hands slid down to my hips, which he cupped, and brought me up on my knees. I frowned as he stayed on his knees as well. He brought my dress up and over my head. His eyes burned into me, memorizing me a manner deeper than anything I'd ever experienced by him. I couldn't speak; in fact I could barely breathe as Sherlock removed his coat and shirt without taking his eyes from my body.

Sherlock placed his fingers over my lips. "Let me make the most of loving you." I nodded, as I parted my lips, drawing his finger into my mouth. But Sherlock removed his hand from my mouth. "No. Tonight, it's all about you."

His lovemaking was different tonight; it was slow, soft, and romantic. It was like our wedding night all over again. There wasn't a part of me that went untouched or unkissed. Sherlock eyed every place on my body with a completely focused eye. His hands slowly touched every spot on my body, from my toes to my head. His lips kissed me in familiar places and his mouth tasted and explored new places on me.

After an hour or so of pure beauty, he solemnly dressed me and I lay back on the cold floor with him. Sherlock held onto me tightly, as if tonight was my last night with him. You couldn't fit a piece of paper between us. His legs were entertained with mine, his head rested ontop of mine and his arms were locked around my shoulders.

"What is it?" I whispered. "I know that there's something else, something that you're not telling me. Can you tell me?"

"I can't." Sherlock shook his head. "Only time will tell Tammy."

Those were the last words I heard before drifting off to sleep. But a couple of hours later, I awoke to find Sherlock gone and I heard someone bouncing a ball off a cupboard. It didn't take much for me to realize that it was Sherlock. The door to the lab opens and I jump, but I relaxed when I saw it was John who came in.

"Got your message." I yawned and John looked towards me. "Sorry, did we wake you?"

"No, it's all right. I'm resting, not sleeping."

John frowned. "Not much of a difference."

Sherlock caught the ball. "The computer code is key to this. If we find it, we can use it; beat Moriarty at his own game."

"What do you mean, "use it?"

"He used it to create a false identity," Sherlock explained. "so we can use it to break into the records and destroy Richard Brook."

"And bring back Jim Moriarty again."

Sherlock stood up. "Somewhere in 221B, somewhere, on the day of the verdict, he left it hidden." He faces the bench, putting both hands on the cold surface. John stands beside him, unconsciously mimicking his stance. I smile as I file that photo away in my mind. Both of them stare ahead of them, thinking.

John looks at Sherlock. "What did he touch?"

"An apple. Nothing else."

"Did he write anything down?"

"No." Sherlock and I respond in unison.

John raps his fingers on the bench. After a moment, he turns and walks around the room. I yawn and close my eyes, concentrating on Moriarty and everything he'd done in our flat. He had a cup of tea, but didn't leave his chair except to enter and leave the room. Anything I'd have missed couldn't escape Sherlock's memory.

Several hours later, dawn is breaking and I realize that I've fallen asleep again. Sherlock is still in the same place, although he's now sitting down with his feet up on the bench. He is rapidly rolling the ball across the bench, his fingers flickering rapidly over the top of the ball. John has sat on a stool at a nearby bench and has his head down on his folded arms, asleep.

I look at my phone and stand up once I realize that I have 10 minutes to make it to my appointment. I decided not to bother Sherlock and moved towards the door. "Hey?" he called and I spin around. "Where are you going?"

"My doctor's appointment."

He nodded. "Right." He glances at me. "Don't go walking out in the rain anymore. You catch the flu so easily."

I smile. "Can't promise anything."

I turned to walk away. "Tammy?"

I turned to face him again. "Yes?"

He hesitated for a moment before speaking, holding out his hand to me. "Come and kiss me before you go."

I was surprised, but I didn't question him. I approached him, leaned over and kissed him. Sherlock pulled me into his lap, so I was straddling him. His hands cupped my hips as he kissed me deeply. His hands held my head in place as his mouth took possession of mine. John was in the room, but Sherlock didn't care. He normally didn't show how much he cared for me in front of John. Something told me not to break this kiss, but Sherlock broke it for me. He smiled and lifted me from his lap. "See you later."

I nodded. "All right." I turned and began to walk away again.

"Hey!" I spun around at him.

"Yes?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. I just…wanted to get another look at you." I smiled broadly at him. "Now go." I nodded and walked out of the lab. With each step, I had a weird feeling that this was going to be the last time I saw Sherlock alive.

My doctor's appointment wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Since it was my first time as their patient, they had to do _everything_. The doctor was friendly, but not very talkative, which allowed my mind time to wander.

"I'll go down and check with the lab about your test results."

"Ok. Thank you."

I fidget in my seat as he closes the door leaving me in the office alone. I run my hands over my legs. Suddenly, a cold, dead, sick feeling welled up inside me. Something was wrong.

I reached for my phone and it went off in my hand. "Hello?" I spoke anxiously into the phone. "Is something wrong?"

_Tammy?_ It was John and he sounded worried. _Where is Sherlock?_

"Last I saw, he was in the lab, why? John, what is it, what's wrong?"

_You need to find him Tammy! Mrs. Hudson is all right._

I frowned. "What was wrong with Mrs. Hudson?"

_I got a call that she'd gotten shot._ I gasped and jumped out of my chair. _She wasn't, she's fine. It was a decoy to get Sherlock alone!_

"Oh God." I tore out of the room and ran down the hall. "I'll call you back when I find him!" I flung the lobby door open and hit the doctor. "I'm sorry!" I said. "There's an emergency and I've got to go!"

"You haven't paid!"

"Talk to John Watson!" I shouted over my shoulder. "I'll pay him back! Have molly Hooper text me the lab results!"

"Ma'am, wait a minute!" He shouted. "You shouldn't be running in your-

I slammed the door on the doctor and raced towards the lab. My heart was pounding in my throat and the short run to the lab seemed to take forever. I threw the lab door open and I found Sherlock was gone. It was then; I realized why things had been so different between us last night. I _could _have been the last night. For Sherlock had gone to confront Moriarty.


	40. 40: The fall

Chapter forty

The fall

I'd called Sherlock four times, each time; he refused to pick up. Something was wrong; he never, ever, refused to pick up his cell phone. I ran out into the street and looked for a taxi. I saw one approaching and slowing down so I ran towards it, just as John came out.

"John?" I called. "I can't reach him!"

John picked up his phone. "Here he is." I exhaled as John answered his phone. "Hello?"

I groaned. "Why didn't he answer me?"

"Hey Sherlock, are you okay? Tammy is really concerned."

John reached me and took ahold of my elbow. I heard Sherlock's voice, it was loud and frantic. _Turn around and walk back the way you came._

"No," John said. "I'm coming in."

_Just…do as I ask. Please. _

I stop and look at John. "Do as he says, something is very wrong."

John puts the phone on speaker so we can listen together as we backtrack towards the taxi. "Where?"

Ten steps and then Sherlock orders. _Stop there._

"Where are you?" I asked. "Sherlock."

_Ok, look up._ Then Sherlock spoke the words that almost stopped my heart. _I'm on the rooftop._

I looked up and covered mouth as my heart stopped. "Oh God." John's voice was full of horror.

I grabbed onto John's arm for support. "Sherlock." I asked him calmly though my heart that was beating in Samba time. "Come down, now. You're scaring me."

_I, I, I can't come down so we'll just have to do it like this._

John, being a doctor must have had more experience in this sort of situation. "What's going on?" He tried to keep his voice calm, but I could hear he was anxious for Sherlock.

_An apology_. I stared up at Sherlock in shock as his voice came over the speaker. _It's all true._

"What?" John asked in disbelief.

"What's true Sherlock?" I asked.

_Everything they said about me. I invented Moriarty._

"What?" I gasp out. "Stop it Sherlock. Just, stop it."

John is able to speak out. "Why are you saying this?"

_I'm a fake._ My heart feels as if it's being squeezed in a vice as I heard Sherlock's voice break.

"Sherlock."

_The newspapers were right all along_. Sherlock's voice then became full of tears. _I want you to tell Lestrade, I want you to tell Mrs. Hudson and Molly. _Tears filled my eyes and I could feel my heart begin breaking in my chest. _In fact, tell anyone who will listen to you, that I created Moriarty for my own purposes._

"Okay, shut up, Sherlock. Shut up." I nodded at John's words. "The first time we met, the first time we met, you knew all about my sister, right?"

Sherlock laughed shortly. _Nobody could be that clever._

"_You_ could."

Sherlock is silent for a long time before he admitted. _I researched you. Before we met I discovered everything that I could to impress you. _Sherlock sniffed. _It's a trick. It's just a magic trick._

"Sherlock," I spoke into the phone. "I was a total stranger!" I gripped John's hand tighter. "There is _no_ way on earth you could have known what you did about me."

He was silent before saying. _I found out about you from Mrs. Hudson, I knew you were coming._

"No, you didn't. You're lying, I know you are!" I said. "Sherlock, please, get off the ledge. If you love me, then you'll come down."

He was silent before responding_. I don't._ I felt as if someone had hit me upside the head of those words. _If I did…I'd find it easier to…say that I loved you. But how can you love someone, when you bought them?_

His words were like an icicle being stabbed into my heart. "Sherlock."

_I bought you….for the price of a wedding band._

"Stop it Sherlock!" I cried out. "Why are you doing this?"

_You wouldn't give me what I wanted, so I married you_. The blood pounded in my ears and I turned to John, he was properly horrified as well. _Your brother was right ….I only married you for sex._ I covered my mouth to keep from throwing up. _You're not good for much else._

"No." John spoke up as he wrapped an arm around my unsteady waist. I could only stare up at Sherlock's figure in shock. "Alright, stop it now."

John moved forward a few steps, but Sherlock's voice stung like a whip as it came over the phone. _No, stay __exactly__ where you are! Don't move!_

"Alright." John took a few steps back, his hand raised as if in surrender.

Sherlock was hyperventilating. I could hear him breathing rapidly. "Please," I croaked out. Inspite of his cruel words, I was still concerned for him. "calm down."

_Keep your eyes fixed on __me__._ Sherlock had his hand outstretched towards John. His voice becomes frantic. _Please, will you do this for me?_

"Do what?" John asked.

"This phone call, it's, uhm... it's my note." My heart stopped at the word, 'note.' "That's what people do, don't they? Leave a note?"

John shifted his phone in his hand. "Leave a note when?"

"When they commit suicide." I said frantically. "Sherlock. Please."

_Goodbye, John. _

"No." John begged. "Don't. Not in front of your wife."

"Sherlock." I pleaded. "Wait! Please listen!"

I looked up as his hand dropped from his ear, and his phone fell to the ground. Sherlock looked ahead to the horizon. "No! Sherlock!" John shouted.

"Sherlock! Please!" I screamed. "Don't!" I turned to John. "Oh God! Please! Let this be a nightmare!"

Sherlock stretched his arms out, and then in slow motion, he fell off the roof. I screamed. "Sherlock!" John stood there in shock and I did for a moment, but the natural instincts of a wife, caused me to run towards his falling body. My body was ice cold and I didn't hear anything, nor could I see anything but my husband's body plummeting to the ground. I pushed past people, casting them aside. I'd never wished harder that I were Peter Pan in my life than I did at that moment. That would be the only way to stop him from falling.

"Tammy!"

John shouted behind me. But I didn't hear John, I really only heard a sickening thud that stopped me dead in my tracks. I felt John's hand on my shoulder and I turned towards him, just as a stupid cyclist hit us. We were both knocked down and I cracked my elbow on the ground hard.

I screamed, knowing I'd broken it. John was dazed and I rolled up. Sherlock's body was being swarmed with hospital staff and I somehow was able to haul myself up from the ground and stumble forward. I could hear John faintly behind me.

"Sherlock?" I called out as I moved towards his fallen body. Hospital staff restrained me and I pleaded. "He's my husband. Please!"

My pleas were futile and I could only look on as they rolled Sherlock over on his back. He was bleeding; his face was lying in a pool of blood.

"Oh, God, no." I sank to the ground where Sherlock had fallen. I cried and screamed out. "God, no!"

Satan or God, I know both of them heard me as I screamed to heaven and hell the anguish I felt. I looked down at the ground, finding I'd placed my hands in Sherlock's blood. I cried as they lifted his limp body onto gurney. My cries grew louder and I don't know how long I sat there in the street. I felt nothing. Nothing, except this sense of pain, loneliness, anger, deepest loss and the tragedy of a love that was lost to me forever. Those emotions consumed me completely. I'd never felt anything like this before in my life.

I felt John's hands on my shoulder's pulling me up from the ground. "Why?" I screamed. "Why!? Oh, dear God why?!"

"He's… gone Tammy." John croaked through his tears.

I shook my head. "No. no. no." I pulled away from him and covered my mouth. "He _can't _be!" I began screaming loudly. "He _has to be here_!" I wrapped my uninjured arm over my waist. "He can't leave me now! No!" I ran towards the hospital. "Sherlock!"

John caught my arm. "Tammy."

I was pulled into a tight hug and I cried as the rain poured down on both of us. I couldn't believe this. What nightmare from Hell was I living in? Why couldn't I wake up? Why? Why?

I grabbed onto John's coat tightly and cried. He brought me to the ground on my knees as I sobbed uncontrollably. It always rained when things went wrong. "I'm here." John assured me through his own tears. "I'm here."

My phone went off in my hand and I looked at it. Hoping somehow that it was from him. To my dismay, the message was from Molly. The subject read; _Congratulations_! I opened it and read the short text. _You're going to be a mother Tammy!_

I dropped my phone in shock and shook my head. Those words could have cheered me up any time, but this time, it drove me to my hands and knees. "No!" I cry out to the heavens. "No! Why? Why?" I hit the ground in anger. "Damn you Sherlock Holmes!"

"Tammy?" Poor John, even in the midst of his suffering, he was looking out for me. "Calm down."

"I'm…pregnant John." The words burst out of me with the ocean of tears that I feared would never cease. "I'm carrying….his baby."

John's grip grew limp around me and his face went a sick gray. "Oh Tammy…no. you can't be."

"I…am."

My asthma caught up with me and I felt myself hyperventilating through my sobs. I gasped for air, but I couldn't calm down. John helped me up and led me into the hospital. I looked towards the blood on the ground as I came up the steps. "Don't… be dead." I pleaded as I was helped inside the hospital. "Just…don't let him be dead." I begged as I sank to the ground in exhaustion. "Don't let him be dead."

I couldn't stop chanting those words like a prayer. Those words consumed my thoughts, heart and soul and I prayed endlessly for those words to come true. But they couldn't come true for me.


	41. 41: I killed Sherlock Holmes

Chapter forty-one: I killed Sherlock Holmes

* * *

I awoke to find myself in a private, hospital suite and Mrs. Holmes had fallen asleep in the chair next to my bed. I sat up, hoping not to disturb her as I looked around the suite. My clothes were hanging on a coat hanger nearby. I swung my feet out of bed and crept quietly towards them. I hated hospitals, and I hated that I was in one even now. There was a changing screen and I got dressed behind there. My elbow was killing me, but compared to the pain pressing on my heart, it was a dull ache.

I then walked casually out of the hospital; no one took any notice of me. And I made it outside of the hospital as a black limousine pulled up in front of the hospital. I glanced at it as I looked around to hail a taxi. The door opened and I felt a hand on my shoulder. I spun around and found myself looking into Mycroft's face.

"Tammy, what are you doing out of the hospital?"

"I snuck out." I replied. "I'm going home."

"You shouldn't go back there yet."

"It's where I want to be." I moved his hand off my shoulder. "Excuse me."

"You don't have money for a taxi." He stated. "You couldn't even pay your hospital exam yesterday."

"Then I'll walk home."

"Now, wait a minute," he caught ahold of my elbow as I turned to walk back to Baker's Street. "I can't let you do that." He said. "Let me text mother that you're going home. Rather rude of you to leave her there alone."

"I didn't want to disturb her."

"Get in the car." I nodded and did as he asked. There was a dark haired woman in the car, and she didn't even bother to look up from her cell phone at me. I tapped my fingers impatiently on my legs, waiting for Mycroft to get inside the car. He did and he asked. "Move to front seat will you?" the woman nodded and relocated to the front seat without a word. He then told the driver to take me to Sherlock's house, even hearing his name wanted to make me burst out into tears or fall down and die. "Now, don't worry about your hospital bills, I've taken care of your expenses."

"Thank you." I said as I looked at the floor.

"So," this was awkward for Mycroft, I could tell. He was a Holmes though, that made him an expert on hiding his emotions. "how did your examine go? I trust you're getting over the flu now?"

"I never had the flu." I bit out. "Thank you for the painful reminder that I am now pregnant with Sherlock's baby as we speak."

"What?" Mycroft jumped. "You don't mean, oh, dear God. I am so, so, sorry."

"Where is he?" I asked.

"Why?" Mycroft sounded a little wary.

"I want to see him one last time."

Mycroft shook a sober face. "I am sorry Tammy. I can't let you see his body. I've taken care of all the arrangements for his body; you can set your mind at ease. It's best that you remember him the way you saw him last."

"Last?" I stood up as tears rolled down my cheek. "I saw him, on the ground, his head covered in blood. That was the last time I saw him. And you want me to remember him like that?"

Mycroft's face was shocked for him. "You saw his body?"

"Saw it!" I wrapped my uninjured arm around my waist. "I had the distinct privilege, of seeing him jump off the roof and hearing his body hit the ground!"

Mycroft shook his head sympathetically. "I am sorry Tammy. He shouldn't have done that in front of you."

Tears brimmed my eyes. "I can't believe...it's…what he said to me."

Mycroft prodded gently. "What did he say?"

"He said…he…didn't love me. That…he only married me for…sex and, I wasn't ….good, for anything else…but that." I started crying. "Why?" I demanded. "Why? Why did he do that?"

Mycroft rubbed my shoulder. "Don't ask me Tammy."

"You're his brother!" I shouted. "You should know him! I knew him for about 2 years! You grew up with him!"

"And you were his wife." He said as he scooted towards me and wrapped his arm around me, tugging me into his chest. "I don't know why he said those things to you, but please, believe me, he loved you. I could see it." My sobs grew quieter as I listened to his words. "I could see that in his eyes the first time I saw you. When you dressed me down in front of him, he was staring at you one would eye a piece of chocolate cake." I sniffled and smiled. "I swear, if you two were married, he would have dragged you into his bedroom that instant. You know that man, who assaulted you during the Adler incident?"

I groaned, remembering my near escape. "How could I forget?"

"Sherlock tracked him down, broke every single finger in his hand."

I bolted upright and looked at him. "What? I never knew that. Why'd he break his fingers?"

"Said if he couldn't keep his hands to himself, then he didn't deserve the pleasure of using them." I stared at him in shock. "When you came over to my parent's house, I could tell that he tried to have his way with you in the library." I closed my eyes, my mind traveling back to the moment where he'd had me backed up against the wall, hunger in his eyes and voice. "I'm surprised that he didn't get your virginity that night."

"He didn't try anything. He just…held me."

Mycroft smiled. "And Buckingham Palace," I laughed as I remembered Sherlock, wearing only a sheet. "he was so jealous, especially when you got those roses. He especially didn't like it when you took your coat off, most attractive dress though."

"That Adler woman," I said quietly. "I-I never understood what…he saw in her, really. But then, he….he told me that, he loved me, in front of you and her. But he'd acted so….depressed when she died. I-I didn't know where I stood with him."

"You should have heard him when you want up to get dressed."

"What did he say?"

"He told Adler, that you were three times a lady and he loved you. You didn't have the highest IQ, but you completed the parts of himself that he was lacking. He also said he was planning on proposing to you that night and he was extremely mad at us for putting you out of humor. But he said he knew just how to get you to calm down and he had no doubt that you were going to accept him."

I shook my head and looked down at my wedding ring on my hand. "I'm not really good at saying no, especially when it came to him."

"He was never good at saying, 'I love you,' consider yourself lucky Tammy. He never really even said to Mummy." The car stopped and Mycroft got out and opened my car door. I stared up at the familiar building as he helped me out. "Are you sure this is a good idea? You have so many memories here."

"That's the reason why I want to be here. I don't want to be without him. When I first met him that…the only thing attractive about him were his eyes. And now, I'd give anything, just to see him one more time."

Mycroft reached into his pocket and pressed a cold item into my hand. "I was able to get this for you." I looked down to see it was Sherlock's cellphone. I ran my hand over it as Mycroft pressed Sherlock's scarf into my hand. "I had his scarf cleaned and I had the code on his phone removed. He'd want you to have them."

"Thank you Mycroft." I wiped my eyes again. "I'm sorry; I can't seem to stop crying."

Mycroft hugged me. "Understandably." He exhaled. "I'm glad to know that …he at least died loved. That's the most that anyone could ask for."

"But…it would be nice to let your last words be words of love. He-he promised that…when he died, he'd say he loved me one more time. I-I don't know why he did."

"He was out of his mind Tammy; he said cruel things to you." Mycroft reminded me. "You wouldn't expect him to change his mind and say that he loved you after degrading you?"

"I guess not." I sniffled and pulled away. "I need to go now."

"Want me to go with you?"

I shook my head. "No. but, I do thank you. I-I needed to hear those things."

He hesitated and then said slowly. "I don't know if I should tell you this, but, you're going to find out anyway."

I steeled myself. "What is it?"

"Moriarty is dead."

I stared at him. "Good. How?"

"He was found on the rooftop, he'd committed suicide."

"What rooftop?" I asked. But then, I knew instantly. "The same roof Sherlock… jumped from?" he nodded. My mind reeled. "How? How did he die?"

"Gunshot wound through the head, self-inflicted."

I stared at Mycroft as my world spun. I began pacing, very much like Sherlock did, fanatically back and forth. He was saying something to me, but I couldn't hear him. My mind was reeling, words from the past came rushing up to me, drowning my ears.

_I thought it'd be obvious. You are going to burn the heart out of Sherlock by breaking his heart. _I remembered Moriarty's voice over the phone that night Sherlock and I'd first shared at bed together. _Congratulations sister, he's never let his guard down for anyone but you. I don't know why, you're not very intelligent. _

_You're jealous._ I'd told him when he'd prepared to leave the flat. Had I been right? Had he been jealous of what Sherlock and I shared together?_ Because no matter what you do, you will never, ever, have what Sherlock and I share._

_Do you want that baby or not? _Why'd he do that? Sherlock hadn't been interested in having children, but that day and every day after, he'd really put an effort into getting me pregnant. Had he known he was going to die and he wanted me to have a child to remember him by? Last night, it had been our last night. He was committing every inch of me to memory, telling himself that he was going to pay for my protection with his life. But why lie, why say such hateful things?

_What better way to burn someone than by hurting the one that someone loves deeply? _My words, now stuck in my head. Oh, God! Had I just used my own words to predict this incident! But the burn was on Sherlock and I. We'd both been burned. It must have hurt Sherlock to say those words and I'd been left with an eternal burn after hearing those words.

_I owe you a fall, Sherlock._ A fall. Sherlock and Moriarty had been on the roof together. Had Moriarty forced Sherlock to jump from the roof? Had he made him say all those terrible words?_ And Tammy won't always be around to solve riddles for you. _That had been a threat. He'd threatened me. Sherlock, he must have jumped, to protect me. _You cursed the day I was born. Be sure you cursed the day that you met Sherlock Holmes._ Oh, Lord have mercy, I had! I'd cursed him so many times yesterday in my despair.

_"__Tammy?" _John's voice jarred me out of my 'mind palace' as Sherlock had put it._ "You shouldn't be out of the hospital."_

_"__It's my fault." _I cried as I turned towards him._ "I killed him!"_

_"__Tammy!" _John reprimanded me sharply_. "Don't think like that!"_

_"__I did!" _I insisted._ 'It's my fault. I should have never, ever married him!" _I covered my mouth._ "Moriarty warned me that I'd curse the day I was born! He warned me not to marry him! I was __the only __thing that could protect Sherlock!"_

_"__Tammy," _Mycroft said._ "stop it. Now."_

I shook my head._ "I killed him! I killed him! He jumped…to protect me, somehow."_

_"__From what?"_

_"__I don't know!" _I leaned into John for support and he obliged me._ "And __that __is going to kill me! I don't know why! What was his secret? What!? What did I miss?"_

_"__We must get her inside." _Mycroft said and he surprised me by picking me up._ "Get the doors John."_

John nodded._ "Of course."_

Mycroft asked._ "How long is she going to be like this? She used to be such a strong woman."_

_"__And she will be strong again." _John said his own voice breaking._ "It's not uncommon for someone to have lost a loved one to blame themselves in times like this."_

The words that were spoken afterwards didn't really penetrate my mind. One thought was in my mind. I'd killed Sherlock Holmes. I had. John and Mycroft could deny the obvious, but I knew what they refused to acknowledge the truth. By forming an attachment to him and him to me, I'd destroyed him.


	42. 42: Never say goodbye

Chapter forty-two: Never say goodbye

* * *

Every day was a little death for me, as Sondheim would put it. Every day, I felt pain because of every little thing that reminded me of Sherlock. I wanted so desperately to forget, but it was impossible to go a moment without thinking of Sherlock. When Sherlock had claimed me in marriage, he'd claimed me body and soul. My brain was simply filled with him, his voice and I could feel him around me. I couldn't walk the streets without remembering him! He'd done things in such an elaborate way that I would never be allowed to forget him.

My flat, was where we had our wedding ceremony. Sherlock's flat, that alone told you how many memories I had. The yellow smile was gone from the wall, but the bullet holes remain. His refrigerator, I hadn't dared to open for fear that I'd start crying or laughing over somebody's heart or head.

I slept in his bed, usually in one of his shirts, and I'd grown accustomed to sleeping on his side of the bed. I didn't do much; I just sat around in his shirt and robe, scrolling through his phone. There were dozens of pictures of me on there that I hadn't realized that he'd taken. I'd be reading, doing dishes, cleaning, or talking with John, or doing something like biting my nails.

There were even a few shots of me in my wedding dress. Somehow, he'd been able to snap a photo of him sucking the chocolate frosting off my finger. In my happiness, I must have been concentrating only on him. There was even a photo of me heading into the bathroom to wash my makeup off on our wedding night. Several shots of me sound asleep in bed together. A few were rather shocking for me to view, for I wasn't dressed in some of them and I was exposed to his camera. Still, there was a beauty to them, I guess. I was asleep in all of them and I was in his arms in most of them. He'd hold me close to my chest and there was a look of contentment there that surprised me.

There wasn't anything ugly or perverse about his photos. They each had little titles. For example: 'My sleeping beauty' or 'My little mermaid,' the mermaid title was attached to the photo of me in the Jacuzzi on our honeymoon. All of them started with 'My,' as if I were his most valuable treasure. The last photo he'd taken of me was when we'd fallen asleep together in the lab. Sherlock had taken a photo of me, wrapped in his coat and he'd called it, 'My reason for living'. That alone told me the truth of where his heart had been that night.

A week passed and I slowly became in tune with reality again. Kitty's newspaper had published a story about Sherlock, calling him the 'fake' hero. They also wrote a story about me. SHERLOCK HOLMES SECRET MISTRESS! I immediately had my lawyer file suit against them, he was certain that we'd win.

People, everyone who knew Sherlock, sent me flowers and condolence cards. Within the first day of Sherlock's death, I had gotten letters from almost every person that Sherlock had helped. Sherlock's will stated that he wanted a private burial if he died. Only John, Mrs. Hudson and I were permitted to attend. His family was not allowed, but if I wanted, they could be allowed. His family had attended at my request, because it hadn't felt right. I was so overcome with a deep sense of loss and grief that John had to give me a sedative before taking me back home.

Today, a week after his death, John, Mrs. Hudson and I stood together over Sherlock's black marble headstone. Our flowers rested at the base of the headstone. I couldn't think of a single word to say, so I was glad when Mrs. Hudson spoke. "There's all the stuff, all the science equipment. I don't know what needs doing. I thought we'd take it to a school." She looks to John. "Would you?"

"I can't go back to the flat again," John said. "Not at the moment."

"I'll take care of it." I said quietly. "He was my husband."

"Oh Tammy." Mrs. Hudson said. "You really should get out of the flat."

I shook my head. "It'd be like leaving a part of my heart behind at the moment. I can't. He won't let me be." I exhaled. "He won't…let me be. He just…fills my brain, every, waking minute."

Words died on me and I covered my mouth and shook my head. John spoke quietly. "I'm angry."

Mrs. Hudson patted his shoulder. "It's okay, John. There's nothing unusual in that, that's the way he made everyone feel. All the marks on my table and the noise. Firing guns off at one in the morning."

"Yeah." John and I both nodded in agreement.

"Bloody specimens in my fridge. Imagine! Keeping bodies where there's food." I started to smile as Mrs. Hudson's tone changed to anger. "And the fighting! Drove me up the wall with all his carryings on!"

"Yeah, listen." John said. "I'm not actually that angry, okay?"

"Okay. I'll leave you two alone to.…you know."

I stepped away as well. "I'll give you a few moments alone John. Then…I'd like to talk to him."

I stepped far enough to give John his privacy, but I could hear his voice faintly. He tried speaking a few times, but he did find his voice, he moved me to tears. "You... you told me once that you weren't a hero. Umm, there were times I didn't even think you were human. But let me tell you this, you were the best man, the most human... human being that I've ever known, and no-one will ever convince me that you told me a lie, so there." He stepped forward and rested his hand on the tombstone. "I was so alone, and I owe you so much." John started to walk away, but then he stopped and turned around. "Oh, please, there's just one more thing, one more thing, one more miracle, Sherlock, for me. Don't be... dead. Would you do that just for me? Just stop it. Stop this."

John's shoulders dropped and he fought back tears of his own and didn't succeed. I walked towards John and touched his shoulder. He squeezed my hand and I nodded. "Thank you John."

"I'll give you…your privacy. We'll wait for you."

I shook my head. "I'm going to be here…a while. Go ahead. I'll be fine."

He cleared his throat. "Are you sure?"

I nodded. "I need to talk to him, shout at him for a bit. I know he can't hear me," I cleared my throat. "but then, he tuned everyone out when he wanted to, didn't he?"

John nodded as he leaned forward and kissed my brow. "Don't be long."

I nodded. "I won't." John walked away, giving me privacy. I knelt and placed my hand on Sherlock's tombstone. For a long time, I couldn't find the words, then, they started slowly bubbling out of me. "Uhh, I don't…accept any of this, Sherlock. I don't, want to believe that you're dead. You…you promised that before you'd die that you'd say you loved me. And…you didn't but…I saw you. I saw you…and you were dead." I knelt and sat down beside the tombstone, leaning against it. Tears built up in my eyes. "I know I have to accept that…you're gone. Try, as I might, and wish that you were still alive, I know, that you're not. I don't know why you did that, why you…hurt me." My voice rose with anger and tears. "I don't know what horrible secret you were hiding from me! But for God's sake! I was your wife! No, I was more than that! We worked together! I told you everything and you told me nothing! And that's the problem! I was fine with it! I was fine with it!" I exhaled, regaining my breath. "God help me, I allowed it. I was fine with being in the dark, being accepting of your lack of affection or trust towards me at times because I loved you enough to overlook it. I thought, I knew you well enough, now I see that, I was wrong. I didn't know you that well and if I hadn't allowed my heart to rule my head, I'd have waited and gotten to know you better."

I exhaled. "But I didn't and I'm glad that I didn't because….I wouldn't have traded any moment I shared with you. I just…wish I knew why, what was in your mind when you did that. You broke my heart, but, rest in peace knowing that, I know you had a reason for it. I don't know why, but I suspect Moriarty gave you no alternative. But you wouldn't have killed yourself for purely selfish motives. You were rude, cold, and unfeeling at times, but you were never selfish." I wiped my eyes. "And I believe that the…night before…you knew what you had to do. You told me, not in words, but your actions Sherlock. They told me what was really going on behind your soul. I-I can't thank you yet, because, I don't know what you did." My voice dropped to a whisper. "But, thank you for…giving me your child."

I placed my hand over my stomach. "You knew, didn't you? You didn't want the child, but I did. I want to give into grief, but I can't. I won't risk it, I shall be as strong as possible as I can until our child is born. If I miscarry, there is no second chance for me. I have to take care of myself. Can you understand that?" Somewhere, in the windmills of my mind, I heard Sherlock say "Yes," to me. "I hope so." I bit my lip. "I miss you terribly and, I can't loose the one part of you I have left. I will protect out baby, I promise you."

My tears finally broke loose and I cried, but I didn't cry long or hard. It was a brief, short cry, with my head against his tombstone. Suddenly, I had a weird feeling and I looked to the right of me. The sight that I saw caused my heart to stop cold. I saw a tall figure in the distance. I stood up, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Sherlock?" I called. The figure turned and walked calmly behind the tree. "Sherlock?" I called and I ran in that direction. "Sherlock?!" It had to be him! It looked so like him! I knew him anywhere! But when I reached the tree, the figure was gone and I looked around. I shook my head, convinced it was a figment of my imagination.

I turned and surveyed the graveyard with an eerie feeling like someone was there with me. A song, from 'A tale of two cities' just floated to my lips and out of my mouth.

_Why do you haunt my dreams? Even now, I can feel you._ I shivered slightly, feeling Sherlock's hands on me in the ghostly breeze of the wind. _In my mind it seems, you are near, you are really here._ I shake my head as I walk back towards his grave. _Every night it's just the same, I see your face. Every time I close my eyes, I hear you whispering my name._ I placed my hand on the headstone of the grave and shook my head. _If it's a fantasy, then, let it be! Never say goodbye! Never leave me_, _stay forever! I can live without the days,_ _just find me in the night!_ And I really could. If I could have him in my mind, then he was never truly gone from me. _Just__ say you'll never leave my dreams, never say goodbye!_

I knelt and ran my fingers over his name. _So many, secrets you never shared, secrets I must forgive._ Now tears began to dribble down my cheeks. _If I doubted you cared, I doubt I'd live! Never say goodbye! Never leave me, stay forever!_ _Be my angel in the night, don't let the memory die! Just say you'll never leave my dreams, never say goodbye! _

I pressed a kiss to his gravestone before whispering. "I love you."

The taxi rid was dull and gloomy and I didn't notice much of anything going on around me. I walked up the stairs with heavy feet; I decided to pack up some of Sherlock's items. I couldn't donate them, just yet. I'd put them in boxes and stack them in his closet. I pushed the door open to his flat and removed my coat. But then, I was having his child, maybe his son should have his father's equipment.

"You're early." I spun around at the sound of a female's voice and my heart stopped. "I wasn't expecting you to be back so soon."

There, standing in my kitchen, was _the _woman.

Irene Adler.


	43. 43: Don't cry out loud

Chapter forty-three: Don't cry out loud

* * *

"Close the door." She purred. "And do sit down."

I stared at Irene Adler as I walked towards her. "What are you doing here?"

"Sherlock helped me fake my death," she said as she walked towards me. I stared at her. "I for all intents and purposes am dead. I've been living quietly all this time." She looked somewhat sympathetic, as she walked up to me and studied me. "You should eat more, you're loosing weight."

"I've decided that I'd eat more today." I frowned at her. "Why are you here?"

She looked up at me and smirked. "You really don't like me do you?"

"What was your clue?" I demanded. "No! I don't like you! And I never have."

She shoved her hands in her pockets and studied me. "You have no reason to dislike me."

"You are everything I don't approve of."

She smirked. "And you're everything I'm not."

"What are you doing here?" I demanded.

"I came to pay my respects. We were quite close you know."

I stiffened. "I'm aware of that. He paid enough attention to your naked body to realize that your measurements were the code to your safe."

She laughed. "He was observant."

"But he married _me _not you."

Irene nodded. "More's the pity. I was really better suited for him."

"He disagreed enough to propose to me."

"I know." Irene sat down and gestured for me to sit down. I did, but I sat opposite her in Sherlock's chair. "He didn't love me you know." She confessed. "It was…dangerous attraction, one might say. How could he not be attracted to a mind like mine?"

"I do not need to hear this Adler."

She ignored me. "I sent him over 60 texts, telling him things like good morning, let's have dinner." Her brow knitted seductively. "I gave him numerous propositions to have sex." My head shot up. "He never responded." I frowned. "John says that Sherlock will try to outlive God getting in the last word. So I guess, he must have really not been interested, or maybe my flirting wasn't good enough. What did you do to him?"

"I never flirted," I said. "I teased him, argued with him, shouted at him and called him an idiot! I never tried to win him! Even with you in the picture, I never tried!"

She laughed. "Because you knew you couldn't win, so you didn't fight for him." I drew myself up indignantly. "But then, you'd all ready established your position in his heart. I didn't have a chance. Why fight for what you all ready had?" I was quiet as she leaned forward. "You were everything he and I weren't that's why he loved you." She stated. "You completed him."

"I'm having his baby." Irene's eyes flashed with sympathy. "I found out five minutes after he….jumped."

"I am so sorry."

"I wish he'd known, but then that only would have made it harder for him." I leaned forward. "I think Moriarty blackmailed him into committing suicide. He wouldn't have killed himself without a reason."

Irene nodded and stood up, slipping her hand into her pocket. "Indeed." She placed a hand on my arm. "Too bad Sherlock isn't here to be able to see his child born."

I looked down at the hand that she was running down my arm. I felt a sharp needle stab into my other arm. "What?" I jump up to find my head is spinning and my vision blurry. "What…is that?" I garbled as whatever was in the needle took effect. My legs couldn't hold me up anymore and I slumped down to my knees.

Irene grabbed ahold of my arms and tugged me towards the bedroom. "Don't worry, you're going to sleep for a few hours and when you wake, you won't remember much of anything."

"But…my baby."

"Don't worry, it won't harm it."

I didn't appreciate her calling my baby an 'it' but I was feeling the affects of what ever it was she'd shot into me. She pushed me onto the bed, grabbing ahold of my dress and pulling it over my head. "What…are you…doing?" I tried to fight her, I wanted to, but there were weights in my muscles and I couldn't lift a finger.

"Putting you to bed." She smirked. "Your friends won't think anything of you sleeping in, considering your grief." She pulled one of Sherlock's shirts over my head and pushes me on my back. She smirked. "You _are very _attractive under all those clothes you wear that are a size too big for you." She leaned forward. "I wouldn't have minded having you for myself."

"No." I slur as Irene hovered over me.

"Shh," she said placing a finger on my lips. "I wouldn't touch anything of his." Her face began to fade from my sight and her voice began to get further and farther away. "Just…sleep and tomorrow, you won't remember a thing."

I did sleep. I fell asleep hard. It was weird. I had a very, very, vivid dream. It involved Sherlock and he'd come back to me.

This dream was so real that I could almost feel his kisses, his hands on me. I begged him to make love to me and he didn't hesitate in satisfying me. I lay there, unable to move, as Sherlock violently made love to me while I cried out his name into the dark. But after satisfying me, he left me again. I cried, begged him not to leave me again. He dressed and walked over to me.

I could feel him run his hand down my cheek, before leaning forward and kissing me deeply. "I'll never leave you Tammy." His ghost said to me. "You swore before God you'd give yourself to no other. And you are…mine!" Darkness again closed in on me, but I heard Sherlock say to me. "I love you Tammy, don't ever doubt that."

* * *

When I awoke, my mind was groggy, but it was still sharp, somewhat. I remembered a little bit from Irene's conversation and I _definitely _remembered Sherlock and my vivid dream. I couldn't remember anything after that dream or in-between those times. I checked the sheets and myself, hoping that it wasn't a dream. But I found my sheets clean and my body wasn't sore. I flopped back on the bed, vowing to hit Irene Adler if I ever came across her again. Of course, her occupation was sex, and the drug must have stimulated my imagination. It was a pleasant dream while it lasted, but waking up after having it was Hell.

The door to my bedroom open and John entered. He smiled uneasily. "Good, you're awake. You slept a long time."

My words came out slightly slurred. "Adler was here."

John's eyes widened. "What?" he came and sat on the edge of the bed. "Are you all right? You look terrible. Did she drug you?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"Right." He took my hand and began checking my pulse. "How are you feeling?"

Bile welled up in me and I tore the sheets back. "Sick!" I raced for the bathroom and I didn't miss the toilet as I threw up. John stood beside me and held my hair back from my face as I retched up whatever I had yesterday to eat.

I stood there shuddering as I finished throwing up. John handed me a tissue so I could wipe my mouth. Then, he pressed a cold washcloth over my forehead. "Back to bed."

I shook my head. "No, I've been spending the last week of my life in bed or on the couch."

"Doctor's orders." John helped me back into bed and tucked the covers around my exposed legs. I watched him and he did it all with an impersonal eye. "Now, Tammy, I'm going to go get you some medication and vitamins to help you. I've also got a diet that I want you to follow."

"Thank you John."

"Oh, and I got a call from your lawyer." He frowned. "I've been called as a witness next week?"

I nodded. "Yes. I'm suing 'The Sun,' and we go to trial on the first of next month." John groaned. "You can't talk me out of this John."

"Tammy, haven't you been under enough stress?" he asked. "Think of your baby!"

"Every time I think of my baby, I think of the baby's father!" I said. "I will not go on the record as Sherlock's mistress! 'The Sun', has been spewing all this hate about him being a fake. I'm suing them for more than they make in a year." I tilted my head to the side. "More like five years if you think about it."

"Tammy."

"I'm going to need your help John. I don't know how I'm going to make it alone John. I won't loose his baby; it's all I have left of him. But I am not willing to walk around and see Sherlock's name dragged through the mud."

"We don't have that much evidence."

I snorted. "Check your blog and his website again. I asked everyone who knew Sherlock to send in a letter, detailing how he or she found him and how there was no way he could have researched him. The letters have all been sent to my lawyer as evidence. As of yesterday, he's received over a hundred letters. Henry Knight insisted on being called as a witness and I have no doubt he'll give Sherlock a glowing report." My phone went off and I glanced at it. It was an unfamiliar number and I answered it anyway. "Tammy Holmes speaking."

_Mrs. Holmes? This is Rufus Brule._

I stared at the phone and clicked it on speaker. "The United States Ambassador? Why-why are you calling me?"

_I've called to offer my services. _I stared at John, whose mouth was also hanging open. _My daughter, Claudette, and my son Max, your husband found them_

"Are they all right?" I asked. "Sherlock did mention he hoped that they'd be all right. He was worried about the mercury content they ingested."

_They are thank you for asking. _He exhaled. _Claudette won't talk but Max, he was a huge fan of your husband. Followed his blog, and he…cried bitterly upon coming out of his coma to find out he was dead. _Tears filled my eyes. _He wanted to be a spy, but now, he wants to be a detective. He brought Dr. Watson's blog to my attention and, he wants to testify._

I gasped and John grabbed my hand. "What?"

_He says he only saw Sherlock through photographs that Moriarty showed him. He evidentially, threatened my daughter. Said if she didn't scream upon seeing Sherlock, that he'd kill him._

"I am so sorry."

_I am sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry._

"I'm crying because…I am sad for all you and your family has gone through. I can't thank you enough, thank you, Sherlock is innocent and he deserves to have his name cleared."

_It's the least we can do. Without your husband, we wouldn't be a family anymore. I am sorry for your loss._

"Thank you, for your condolences. And thank you, so much, for your support."

_Good luck. I hope you win. Never liked 'the sun' much._

I laughed. "Neither did I. And please tell Max that, I am sorry Sherlock didn't get to meet him. You've seen that photo of Sherlock wearing a deerstalker hat, I assume?"

_Yes._

"Well the truth is, Sherlock hate that hat. He never wore it except for the photos."

He laughed on the other end. _I'd never have known. It really suited his face. Most men look ridiculous wearing that hat._

"You know that, I know that, but Sherlock didn't." I inhaled. "I think that, once the trial is over, so it won't appear to be a bribe, I'll give him a hat. Sherlock had two lying around and I hid both of them, because I thought someday, if I ever met a really special fan of his, that they'd like it. I think Sherlock would approve of it going to someone who wants to be like him. Tell Max I thank him for his courage and unselfish heart. He's going to grow up to be quite a man when he grows up."

_He'll be pleased. Thank you. I must go; I've got a meeting to attend. _

"I understand. Thank you again." My hands shook as I turned off the phone. I looked at John. "Well, what do you think about that?"

John rubbed his eyes. "If only…Max was conscious when Sherlock was under suspicion."

I bit my lip. "I can't think that way now. I've vowed not to cry out loud anymore and I won't. Do you think we have a chance?"

John nodded. "Yes." He studied me. "I think…this trial may be good for you. I saw a bit of the Tammy that Sherlock saw, she showed her face for a minute."

I shook my head. "She won't show her face for long I fear. But she'll be back some day, when she's happier."

"All right, now, we've got to make plans for the future." John said. "I'll stay in your flat, and keep an eye on you until the baby comes. I'll try to keep you calm but I can't guarantee happy though."

"Can anyone?" I asked bitterly. "Sherlock promised me 50 years of happiness, and look where we are now after being married for roughly four months."

John was silent for a moment. "He'd be so proud of you. Going to battle for him like this."

"I have to win this John." I said. "I can't allow these lies to continue. I'm his wife."

"Widow." John reminded me softly.

"Widow." The word left a bitter taste in my mouth. "Once we win, I promise, I will settle down."

He was silent before saying. "Now we both have something to live for. You, Sherlock's child and saving his reputation. Me, I'm going to help make sure that you're able to accomplish both those tasks."

* * *

**The next part of the story continues in 'Moving on.' You can find it on my profile page.**


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